Waking Dreams
by nubianamy
Summary: Donutverse #6: Puck, Kurt and Finn each feel the pressures of school and family while keeping their secret. Finn/Kurt/Puck. Dom/sub, polyamory, discipline. Takes place during episode 1.11 Hairography.
1. Chapter 1

_~ have you ever felt like you're starting to slide down the side of a hill to the bottom where you will lose your mind ~ so many contributing factors to hide ~ they never will find what's hidden inside ~_

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><p>Wanting a thing you'd never had was one thing. It was easy to look at a thing you wanted – a piece of pizza, maybe, or the next weight ranking in lifting, or even a win at Nationals – and imagine what it would be like to be there, to set a goal, to figure a path toward that goal. But it was still limited to what your mind could guess at.<p>

It was another thing entirely to _not _have a thing you'd once had, and to know exactly what it was you _didn't have,_ and how much you wanted it. Especially when the thing you wanted walked right by you in the hall, sixteen times that day (he counted), and sat two or three desks over in five of your classes. Especially, god, _especially_ when there were _two_ of them, working as hard as you _not_ to look, _not_ to touch, _not _to desperately brush against you between chemistry tables and inspire an immediate, searing hard-on.

It wasn't as though he'd never dated anyone at school before. But he was used to the constant, low-level feedback he'd gotten from Quinn, from other girls he'd dated, who might walk up to him between classes, give him a smile, hold his hand, share a kiss. They were reminders, promises of things to come, even when those things were limited to sweaty groping over the sweater. They kept him going. It was enough.

But he'd had no way to anticipate the bewildering loss he felt at being cut off from the two boys who'd suddenly, over one short week, become the source of his deepest satisfaction. There were no looks of knowing – they were being careful. There were no quick clasps of hands, or comments filled with innuendo. There was simply coexistence, and safe avoidance, and absolutely no shared food, contact or communication.

He found himself wondering, anxiously, if maybe he'd just imagined the whole thing. In moments of sudden panic, it seemed entirely plausible that the blisteringly hot moments of three bodies touching, of three mouths connecting, of hands and cocks and firm limbs pressing, that those had simply been dreams.

And in those moments of anxiety, he would hesitantly glance at Kurt, diligently working on math on the other side of the aisle, hoping to see a secret smile, or a folded note snuck under his notebook, or even a flash of a tongue as he licked his lips. But Kurt was in his own space, busy, laughing with Mercedes and Tina. And Finn was not, had never been, privy to those friendly touches or intimate moments with him. It was ordinary.

It was even easier to imagine that the sessions of heat and control he'd had with Puck were simply the same fevered dreams of lust he'd had about him for weeks, and that their day to day interactions held no undercurrent of unresolved tension, no unexpressed desire. Unlike Kurt, Puck did talk with Finn, did joke, did bump fists and knock shoulders and touch his life in all the ways a best friend might do, and draw no attention. But there was no glimpse of the vulnerable part of Puck, the part he had hidden from Finn and everyone else, that had been uncovered only through extraordinary means and by the cooperative efforts of Kurt and Finn. He was his usual boisterous asshat self. This, too, was ordinary.

It was so much more lonely than Finn had expected.

He was mostly focusing on getting to American history when he nearly tripped over Puck, standing in the hallway outside a door marked _Private._ "First day in the new feet, Hudson?" Puck said casually, arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe.

"Something like that," muttered Finn, trying to smile.

"You might want to take a look inside," Puck said, gesturing vaguely at the door, looking down the hall. "Something you've been waiting for."

"Somethi – oh," he said, feeling a leaping inside, like something was trying to crawl out his throat, and swallowed. He glanced at the door.

"_Before_ someone _notices,_ dumbass," hissed Puck. He knocked on the door with one knuckle, then the door opened and Finn felt himself pulled inside.

"You've got five minutes, and then I'm coming in," Puck said quietly behind him, and Finn turned, felt the weight and heat of Puck's eyes on him, and it was like he'd been doused with a glass of alcohol. The shock of the memory, and god, he'd already _forgotten,_ how could he have possibly –

The door closed. "It's been a long day," said a high, light voice, and Finn felt arms surround him from behind, stroking his chest, his stomach, and if Puck's glance was the alcohol, Kurt's hands were the match, setting him on fire. He closed his eyes to the mops and buckets and shelves of cleaning supplies and allowed himself to be touched by the sure, warm hands of this boy.

"The longest," he said, in a voice dripping with relief, and he wasn't too proud to turn and grab hold of Kurt and hold him close enough to feel his heart pounding against his chest, twin to his own.

"How are you holding up?" Kurt asked into his shirt. Finn stroked his hair, not caring that Kurt would need to walk out of there and continue with fifth period with messy hair, just needing to feel the sensation of Kurt's smooth, unbelievably soft hair in his fingers.

"Not… so good," he admitted shakily.

Kurt pulled back and looked up into Finn's face. In the dim light of the closet Finn could see the tiny line of worry between Kurt's perfectly shaped eyebrows, and his open mouth, and that was all, because Finn brought his mouth down to cover Kurt's, frantically needing to remember the feeling of that mouth on his. Kurt met his mouth with equal urgency, reaching up to twine his hands around Finn's neck. Finn held Kurt's face in his hands and met tongue with tongue, breath with breath.

"Baby," he said, and he couldn't say any more, just again: "baby."

"Yeah," said Kurt, "I'm here, I'm right here."

"I forgot," Finn said, moving his hands to hold his back, his hips, his ass. He lifted Kurt up in his arms, Kurt's legs wrapping around Finn's waist. He sat on Finn's crossed arms, Finn holding him up effortlessly against him. "I can't believe it, but – I forgot for a minute what you felt like. What this – what we –"

"Shh," said Kurt, kissing him. "You were doing what you needed to do. To get through it."

"God," he said, crushing Kurt to him, feeling the heat of his body through his t-shirt, and suddenly he needed more skin, more contact, needed to feel their arms and nipples and elbows and every part of them touching, or he was going to die.

He tried to pull Kurt's shirt out of his waistband, but Kurt stopped him, and Finn groaned. "Hang on, big guy," Kurt smiled, a little breathless, which seemed incongruous when Finn was the one holding him off the ground. "This is just a… a temporary measure. We have –" he checked his watch – "one hour and forty-three minutes until the end of the day. I'll meet you at Puck's house after school, and we can – finish this business, together."

"Yeah, okay," he said, kissing him again, and he knew Kurt could have asked Finn to skin himself alive with a fillet knife and he would have said _Yeah, okay._

The door opened, casting a sudden glare on their entwined bodies, and Finn had a moment of panic before he saw Puck step in. He saw Puck stop in the doorway, lips parted, and take them in with one glance before the door closed and they were in darkness again.

"Uh," Finn said. Kurt slid down Finn's torso to the floor, making him grunt and see stars.

"Any room for me?" Puck said lightly into the dark, but he made no move to intervene.

Finn heard Kurt cross to Puck and take his hand, leading him across the short distance to stand before Finn. Finn could see the outline of Puck's scalp, the sneer on his face, the flickering glance to Kurt.

"Kiss him," said Kurt, and Finn couldn't swear to whom the command was given, but Puck stepped forward into Finn's personal space, that he'd protected and held sacred all day, but that now was coming down like a landslide. They made deep, gasping noises in their throats as their mouths came together and Puck was devouring him; there was no way he'd come out of this alive.

"Yeah," said Kurt, satisfied, one hand touching each of them, lightly, not directing.

"Puck – " Finn said.

Puck growled, "You call me baby and I'll kick your ass." He held their hips together, grinding against Finn's cock, until Finn was muffling his noises in Puck's neck.

"Slow down," said Kurt, and Puck immediately cut the pace in half, which was somehow both filthier and sweeter for all that. "You've got to sit through two more classes. I don't think you want to do it in sticky underwear."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hummel," said Puck.

"Hey, slushies aren't the only reason I've got a change of clothes in my locker, you know," he teased, "but I don't think your ass would fit in my skinny jeans."

Picturing Puck wearing Kurt's clothes was more of a turn-on than Finn would have ever expected, but probably linoleum would have been a turn-on in this moment. He grabbed Puck and kissed him again, holding him up against the door, feeling Puck's big hands and thick arms around him, squeezing the air out of his chest, his surprisingly light touch fluttering down his spine to stroke his ass. Finn bucked once up against Puck, then let go and backed off, breathing hard.

"Seems like I'm not the only one who wants to get into your jeans, Kurt," Puck said, and his voice was about a half an octave lower than usual. Finn shivered at the mental picture.

"I think it was your ass we were talking about," Kurt said. Finn laughed.

"Hey, I've got two hands," Finn said, and wrapped one of each of them around an ass in question and squeezed. He heard Kurt take a hitching breath and Puck swear, and he smiled to himself.

"I think we may need to do this every day," he said, seriously. "I was starting to wonder – well, if you really –"

"It'll be okay, Finn," said Kurt. "It just takes time to adjust. It'll get easier."

Finn nodded, even though they couldn't really see him. "I guess you've done this before."

"Um, no," said Kurt. "Shocking, but it's my first time in the janitor's closet with two hot guys."

"Three hot guys," said Puck, and Finn heard him kiss Kurt. There was a silence, the sound of breath, and wet noises. Finn squirmed, adjusting himself, absorbing the sounds of Kurt and Puck and knowing they would recur in his dreams.

"Okay," Puck said. "Tomorrow, after fourth period, here."

"It's a date," said Kurt, and Finn agreed. "And after school today – we'll all meet separately at your house after football practice, Noah?"

"I'll be waiting," Puck said. He opened the door and slipped out first without another word, leaving Kurt and Finn in the dark.

Kurt reached out for his hand, and Finn took it. They fit together perfectly, Finn's large hand and Kurt's slim one. Finn pulled Kurt's head close to his, pressing their foreheads together.

"I love you," he said fiercely. "I won't be able to say it for the rest of the day, but I need you to know it."

"I do," murmured Kurt. "And I love you, Finn, even if you never hear it from my lips again."

"God, don't even say that, Kurt," he gasped, and Kurt held him tightly. They let one another go, straightening up (Finn laughed a little to himself), then took a breath, opened the door, and put his head out. No one was around.

He took the first stride to fifth period, to which he was late as usual, but he stepped taller and felt the knot of worry ease in his chest. _Kurt,_ he thought happily. _Puck._


	2. Chapter 2

_~ all your friends surround you, they're made out of air ~ they act like they do but they don't really care ~ that just leaves the sickness, the music in me ~ take my medicine and then you'll see ~_

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><p>Puck had found himself spending several of the hours he should have been sleeping last night with his guitar in his hand, scribbling notes in a book of staff paper. It was two parts fevered inspiration and one part bad poetry, flavored with a dash of his favorite musical artists. Puck didn't plan on sharing his musical stylings with anyone, but creating them helped to give him something to hold onto.<p>

It wasn't as though he didn't suddenly have a new center to his universe, the binary stars to his compass, the fucking _reasons_ for his apparently abrupt shift in orientation and needs. He felt that as keenly as he knew his own name. But those sources of inspiration had been abruptly absent. After their in-house date on Saturday at Finn's, Kurt had taken him back to his house – and, yeah, he'd given him something to remember him by, and his ass was still pink and smarting the next morning – and left him there alone.

In the morning, his phone said:

_1 text - Finn Hudson_

_7:47am - my mom was impressed with you - me too. thx for everything. yr amazing._

_1 text - Kurt Hummel_

_9:31am - hope you got some sleep. not much here. Spending the day with my dad. COURAGE. _

Other than those two texts, he had been on his own all day Sunday, and that night as well.

He'd always led a fairly predictable life, before. There was cutting class; there were opportunities for mischief (fun) and mayhem (more fun). There was Glee, and football, and occasionally there was a date with Finn's latest love interest. There was Finn and the guys. There was cooking dinner and playing his guitar and his mom and sister. He was used to being confident about his path, walking the ordinary road from day to day.

Now he was lost, without a map, without a companion, and as he wandered through his day from class, to locker, to class again, he found himself mired in confusion and self-doubt. It pissed him off.

What was worse was that Puck knew Finn and Kurt had helped him gain a feeling of strength and certainty that went beyond his usual confidence - but he couldn't recreate it, and looking at it too closely made him squirm, so he just felt more and more annoyed all day.

He slammed Jacob Ben Israel into a bank of lockers, for no specific reason (except of course he deserved it, so that was okay). He bought a slushie and carried it around the hallways threateningly, for about fifteen minutes until it melted into an overly sweet cup of colored water and he threw it away. He terrorized a group of freshmen guys in the men's bathroom until they left him alone, and then he stood outside the door blocking anyone from entering, hoping – not hoping, _daring_ – someone to come around the corner and see him waiting there.

No one did.

Eventually he got sick of waiting and went looking for Kurt. He didn't know his class schedule – he barely knew his own – but he did know Kurt had lunch at the same time as him. He knew Kurt would be eating the terrible cafeteria food. He wished he had brought him lunch. He wanted to put something between Kurt's lips and make him eat it.

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><p>~ <em>I could take these problems and blame them on you ~ I know what you did and you know what I do ~<em>

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><p>He was more than a little angry and just this side of frantic when he finally saw him, tossing his lunch tray in the trash can. "Hummel!" he said, and the word was a challenge.<p>

Kurt whipped him a frightened look, eyes wide. When he saw who it was, his fear slowly melted into wariness, losing not one iota of tension. "Puckerman," he said, brows knitting.

Puck opened his mouth and stood there, staring at Kurt. He licked his lips and flexed his jaw, and his eyes were perplexed. "…" he said.

Kurt's gaze flickered from Puck, to the curious onlookers, some sympathetic, some cruel, all watching them, and back again. "Throw me into the lockers," he whispered urgently.

Puck's eyes got big, and for an instant he looked terrified, and his head made a little shake. But then he got it, and he balled his fists in Kurt's sweater and forced him bodily against the bank of lockers in the hallway. His forearm was across Kurt's chest, pressing into him, and Kurt could feel the wild pounding of his pulse against his neck. Then he let him drop.

"Jesus, what was that for?" Kurt shouted, not having to reach too far to pretend to be enraged.

"I don't know, Hummel. Some people just ask for it," Puck said, looking Kurt up and down. "They deserve what's coming to them."

Kurt eyed him haughtily. "Is that right," he said.

"Yeah," Puck said, dropping his gaze, then looking up at Kurt again. There was nothing that could be misconstrued as pleasure in Puck's eyes. They were brimming with disgust, and it was clear to Kurt to whom that disgust was directed. It made Kurt's chest constrict.

Puck sneered and turned away, heading down the hall and around the corner. Kurt had to stop at his locker and retrieve his stolen master key before he followed him, unobtrusively, into the men's room. He busied himself at the sink while he waited for the two other guys to finish and leave, and then he locked the door behind them.

He checked the three stalls just to be sure, but Puck was already on him, his breathing erratic, his eyes wild. "Kurt," he said, touching his face with one hand. "Are you okay?"

"You've done worse to me yourself, Noah," Kurt said, taking Puck's hand and holding it to his cheek. Puck blew out an angry breath. "This is risky," Kurt told him. "Are you sure –"

"Fuck, Kurt," he exploded, and pulled Kurt's lips against his. Kurt went willingly, sliding his hands under Puck's football jacket. He touched gently at first, then raked his nails down Puck's chest. He caught a finger on Puck's nipple ring and a loud groan escaped Puck's mouth.

"You couldn't stay away," Kurt said, wrapping his hands around Puck's behind and rocking against him, sending showers of sparks down his back each time their cocks bumped.

"No," Puck growled. There was heat and pain in his voice.

Kurt held him tight. "Noah, stop being so hard on yourself. There's nothing wrong with wanting this."

"It's not – this." Puck's hands knotted behind Kurt's head and stroked his hair. "This is fucking hot, man, I'm good with this. It's – it's the – other thing." He wouldn't meet Kurt's eyes.

"You know I think that's okay, too," Kurt said, but Puck shook his head.

"I feel like such a loser," he groaned. "For wanting it. I don't get why I just can't be happy with… this."

"It's enough that you want it, to make me want to give it to you," Kurt said, and Puck shot him a look of gratitude.

"I… have a hard time believing that." Puck released Kurt and paced the floor of the bathroom, hands restlessly touching his own hair, rubbing his forehead, crossing in front of him in protection. Kurt watched him, troubled, trying to figure out what to do.

"It's not just that you want it," Kurt said, softly. "I want it, too. I want to… take it… from you." Puck's breathing stilled, resumed, and he closed his eyes. "I just don't think doing it in the men's bathroom in the middle of the school day is a good idea."

"You're right," Puck said. He tipped his head back against the wall and let it fall, defeated. Kurt turned to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He watched Puck behind him. He took a deep breath, let it out.

"Noah… come here." Puck's head came up, and he walked slowly over to Kurt. Kurt met his eyes. "Get down on your knees," he said, pointing at the floor in front of him.

Puck moved quickly, with no thought, looking up at Kurt with shock and hope written on his face. Kurt marveled how quickly Puck's guard came down when he said the right things. _Or maybe it's the person who says them,_ he thought, and a rush of energy traveled through him. _Yeah, you like this. Admit it. _

Kurt unbuttoned the fly on his navy Calvin Klein jeans, watching Puck's expressive eyes zero in on his movement, seeing his restless hands grow very still.

"You're a very good boy," Kurt said, putting a hand on Puck's head. Puck flushed hot, and he licked his lips. Kurt licked his own, reflexively.

"You want this," he continued, and Puck leaned in, rubbing his face on Kurt's crotch. Kurt's eyes rolled up in his head and he struggled to maintain his calm voice. "Tell me how much you want it."

"God, Kurt, I want to suck you – let me, please, I want to taste your cock –" Kurt staggered a little, dizzy from the words, as Puck reached up to tug down Kurt's jeans. He just pulled them down enough to get access, and then Kurt was gasping, moaning a little too loud, as Puck's mouth engulfed him.

"Where - did you learn to - do that?" Kurt said, grinding out each word, feeling Puck's tongue and the suction of his mouth, hoping that it felt half as good when he did it to Finn. _But Finn didn't want to do this to you,_ he thought.

Puck didn't answer, but hummed deep in his throat, bringing forth another moan, unbidden, from Kurt's mouth. Kurt bit his knuckle. He tried an experimental thrust into Puck's face, and Puck shifted to accommodate the thrust. It didn't seem to cause him any discomfort, so he tried it again, and again, seeing stars. "Oh, my god," he said, and he put his hands on Puck's head, holding him still, and began to fuck his mouth, slowly, feeling the slick wetness and the heat. Puck moaned in return.

"Is that okay?" Kurt had to ask, feeling uncertain, but Puck just nodded emphatically, wrapping his hands around Kurt's waist, holding his hips and buttocks in his strong grip. "Yes, it's so good," Kurt told him. "So good, you're such a good boy." He increased the pace, feeling the urgency inside, thrusting harder. "Ohhh… Noah… yeah, that's just right… my sweet boy, so beautiful."

Puck looked up at Kurt, devoted, his whole being transformed by this simple act of service. _Nothing simple about it,_ Kurt thought, feeling the orgasm overtake him, and he rode it out, not wanting this feeling to end. _This is the feeling of Noah, loving me. This is it. Remember this._

Puck did his best to swallow everything, but a little dribbled out his mouth and down his chin. He released Kurt, sitting back on his heels, and looked up at him. "Thank you," he said, and he sounded entirely different. His shoulders were relaxed, his eyes clear. He was calm, and love shone on his face for Kurt. "That was… just right."

"Yeah," said Kurt, leaning back against the sink, trying to steady the wobbles in his legs. "Wow."

"I'm glad you approve," said Puck. He licked off his own chin. "I have the feeling I'm going to want to do that a lot."

"… Okay," Kurt said, smiling breathlessly. He let Puck tuck him in, but did up his own fly, knowing those buttons were hard enough to fasten even from his own angle. "That was… that was the first time I'd done that. I mean, had it done."

Puck cautiously stretched out stiff limbs, and smiled shyly at Kurt. It was a sweet, delightful expression. "Did I do okay?"

"Yeah, Noah, you did so well," Kurt said, and Puck positively _beamed_.

"I bet Finn is missing us," he said. "Let's see if we can set up a meeting like this."

"Good idea. How about the janitor's closet by the gym?" Kurt suggested. "Anything is better than the bathroom."

"I'll find him and bring him there - you let yourself in with your key. Sound good?" Puck looked at him. "What?"

Kurt just watched him. "You... you're lovely. You're glowing."

"Huh." Puck didn't seem to be upset by this idea. He stood, stretched, inspected himself in the mirror, and laughed. It was an entirely unaffected laugh. He reached out a hand and drew Kurt over to stand by him, putting an arm around his shoulder. They looked at themselves in the mirror, standing together. Kurt's face was flushed, and he looked a little shellshocked. Puck's lips were swollen and red as he smiled. Kurt leaned his head on Puck's broad chest.

"I love you, Kurt," said Puck, and it was so easy, so unexpected, that Kurt began to cry.

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><p>~ <em>how does it feel to forget the world and all your fears (it's wonderful) ~ I know it's hard to even imagine letting go ~<em>

_~ the sun goes down and so are we ~ I'm screaming at you but you don't hear me ~ am I alone or am I crazy ~ the ghost will come around for you inevitably ~_


	3. Chapter 3

6th period took them to the auditorium to watch the girls from Jane Addams Academy perform. Mercedes observed with barely disguised contempt. "Bootylicious," she said, and it was like a slap. "How can they get away with that? It's not fair to all those poor boys watching. They're going to start a sex riot."

"They're good," Tina whispered.

"They're better dancers than they are singers," Kurt said. "I'm not worried. That stuff they do? Rachel called it 'hairography.' It's all flash and attitude."

"And hair," added Brittany.

Kurt shrugged. "I'm more impressed with their unified movements. Some of their dancers are truly stunning. But I don't think that compensates for their simple lack of singing talent. We've got this one in the bag."

Finn leaned in close with Quinn and made a comment that only she could hear. She laughed and said something back to him. He smiled at her and touched the back of her hair. Kurt brushed his bangs back across his forehead, frowning.

He sensed Puck as he shifted restlessly in the back row. Kurt didn't watch as he stood up and walked with Finn out of the auditorium. _Now they go to football… I go to the tire store… then we can be together. _He sighed. A warm hand stroked his back.

"You doing okay?" Mercedes asked quietly. Her eyes were kind.

"It's… stressful." He gave her a watery smile.

"Finn's doing a good job of pretending nothing is going on."

"It's just as hard on him," he protested. "Harder. You should have seen him an hour ago. He was a mess." Kurt smiled fondly, despite himself.

Mercedes watched him, shaking her head. "You are so far gone, Kurt. Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad you're happy, but… I just don't see how you're going to work this." She frowned at him. "He's never coming out."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Mercedes," he said. "He really can't stand lying. I'm not bothered by it in the same way, and N-" He choked on Noah's name and turned it into a hum. "But Finn – he can't do it. He's too honorable."

She put her hands on her hips. "I think you might be a little blind to his faults, Kurt. He's not perfect – he's just a guy, like you. He's got his own shit to deal with. And what about Quinn? He's still got a baby to think about, even if she is going to give it up."

"Um." Kurt paused, not sure how to handle that one. "Yeah. Well, I guess you're probably right that I'm not being very… objective here."

"That's what I'm here for," she said, giving him a half-hug. "To pick on your boyfriend and tell you when you're being an idiot."

_Boyfriend._ He thought about Sarah, how she'd been the first one to say that. It felt… well, not exactly right, but it was as close as he'd ever gotten to having one. _Finn is my boyfriend._ He felt a thrill.

Then he thought of Puck, and he felt the thrill creep up onto his neck and face. "I've… never felt like this about somebody before," he said. "I'm… I'm glad you know. I didn't like hiding it from you."

She smiled sideways at him. "You know I don't really understand this thing with Finn, Kurt, but you're my best friend. I don't have to understand everything. It doesn't mean I don't care about you, or that I won't listen."

He nodded, and took a deep breath. "There's… something else I need to tell you."

Her eyebrow went up. "Whoo boy," she said. "More, huh? I guess I asked for that. Okay – spill."

"It's… a little weird." He glanced at her and bit his lip. "It's a little weird, even for me."

She laughed. "Kurt, you're the straightest gay guy I know. You know what I mean. Everything is a little weird for you."

He laughed back, and it was a little hysterical. "Um, I think maybe I've… changed a little bit in the past couple weeks." _Like, I'm a whole different person? Can you be a "little bit" of a dominatrix? Can you get a "little bit" of a blowjob from a football player in the boy's john? Can you have a "little bit" of kinky three-way sex? I don't think so._

"What's going on, Kurt?" She looked alarmed. "You're not straight, are you?"

He laughed, and this time it was with relief. "No, I can say with certainty that I am _not_ straight. No girls involved here. Um. Maybe… one other guy, though."

"What? You're seeing someone else? Who is it? Does Finn know about him?"

"Yeah, he knows. He's… he's okay with it." She watched her expression. "More than okay. We're kind of… all of us together."

Mercedes put a hand over her mouth and another on her chest. "Oh… oh my god. You are not serious." She looked at him searchingly. "You are!"

"I told you it was weird," he warned. "It's – I don't even know what to say here, Mercedes. I haven't talked with anybody other than Finn and Noah about this."

"_Puck_ knows about this?" She thought about this. "He's more open minded than I thought."

"Y-yeah," he said weakly. There was a pause.

Mercedes stood up, suddenly, and pulled away from him. "Kurt," she said, deadly serious. "Tell me you are not doing the dirty deed with Puckerman."

"Shhh," he hissed, pulling her down to sit in the seat next to him. He looked around the auditorium nervously, but no one else seemed to be around.

"Kurt," she said, and it was a moan. "You can't – that's nasty. That's just nasty."

"He's – he's not really like that," he said weakly. "Really. He's – different."

"You and Puck and – and _Finn?_" Her face grew more complicated as the idea started to sink in. "I mean, yeah, I guess I can see the two of them, I mean they've been friends forever, and everybody knows about football dudes with their ass-grabbing and wild bromances –" She shook her head. "I just – I mean, Kurt. Really? Did you have to go with the football players?" She looked at him hard. "They're not pressuring you into this, are they?"

"God, no, Mercedes!" He jumped up and strode nervously from one end of the row to the other, and then back. "It's not like that at all! Noah, he – he's so sweet. He cooked for me, and he sang for us – and he did up his room with flowers and candles for me and Finn – and he _cries_, he just lets everything go. Mercedes, he's just so amazing."

"Kurt!" she said, cutting him off. "He pushed you into the _lockers_ today. This guy is _not_ who you think he is."

"No – he didn't. I told him to do that. I didn't want anyone to know what was really going on."

"_You_… told him…?" She shook her head, her confusion growing. "What… what _was_ really going on?"

"He was freaking out, because we'd – we'd been apart, all day Sunday, and then coming to school – he just couldn't handle it. Being without us." Kurt felt tears prickling in his eyes and willed himself not to cry. "It wasn't easy for any of us, but Noah, he needs – he needs more. He needs something else, that he can't get from anyone but Finn. And - and me."

Mercedes put up her hands like she was trying to steady herself on something, but there was nothing there. She closed her eyes. "Let me get this straight," she said. "We are talking about Puck, right? This is Noah Puckerman? Because I think I might be entering, like, an alternate _universe_ or something."

Kurt shook his head and laughed, uselessly. "Look, I know there's no way you're going to understand, because he's really good at pretending to be somebody else. Just think of those times you've seen behind the asshole. Think about that. I know you've seen it, too."

She steepled her hands in front of her face and her eyebrows climbed up her forehead as she made a sound of frustration. "Kurt… you're asking a lot here."

"Okay. Okay. Just – trust me that I'm _not_ doing anything stupid, and I'm _really, really_ happy. Is that enough for now?"

Mercedes' lip twisted and she looked appraisingly at Kurt, then she nodded. "Yeah, Kurt, it's enough for now." She hugged him, and he put his head on her shoulder in relief. "But I'm going to need a little advance warning next time you want to spring something else on me, okay? Like, get me drunk first or something?"

"I'll set aside a bottle of white zin with your name on it," he promised. "Thanks – for being okay with it. I really need a friend right now."

"Damn straight you do," she swore, and he fell apart laughing.


	4. Chapter 4

Finn found himself breathing easily, walking down the hall with Puck on the way to football practice. It was a little piece of normalcy in his day, like talking with Quinn. "What did you think about those Jane Addams girls?" he said.

"I don't know." Puck shrugged. "Some of them were pretty badass. I guess they were good dancers and all. It just seemed like they were, I don't know, trying too hard."

"Do you still think about girls? Like that?" Finn looked at Puck, and Puck looked back, surprised.

"Yeah, sure. I mean, as much as I ever did." Puck grinned. "Sometimes it's just easier, with girls."

"They seem to like drama," said Finn.

Puck snorted in amazement. "Dude. I think I win for drama, hands down."

"That's different," Finn protested.

"Whatever. Don't _you_ still think about girls?"

"I don't know," Finn said. "I didn't… watching those girls dance today. It didn't, you know, do anything for me."

"They're not your type." Puck stopped for a drink of water. "You still like Quinn."

"She's just a friend," he said. Puck finished his drink and Finn caught himself staring as Puck licked the water off his lip. For a minute, Finn had a crazy impulse to kiss him, right there in the hallway. He cleared his throat, blushing. "She's not like you," he said, low.

Puck knocked his shoulder into Finn as they continued walking. "Yeah," he said, equally low. "But… you can't really compare the two. That doesn't mean you don't like girls. Each person is kind of their own thing, right?"

"I guess." Finn looked around at the other students moving past them in the hallway with new eyes. Puck watched him, then smirked. "What?" said Finn.

"You were checking that guy out," Puck said, pointing at a sophomore bending to get something from his locker.

"I was? I mean, I wasn't." Finn looked away, blushing. Puck grinned.

"It's okay. You've been doing this to girls your whole life – nobody would think twice about seeing you do it. You do it to guys, though, people are going to start to notice."

"So? Maybe I want them to notice." Finn was suddenly belligerent.

"That's fine, dude," Puck said calmly. "You just have to think it through. Remember what Kurt said? You have to have a plan. It's not just about you, or me, or any one of us."

Finn sighed. "You're right. But I suck at hiding things."

"Yeah," agreed Puck. "Pretty much."

"You said… this - us… had been going on for a long time, for you," he said, and Puck nodded. "How did you keep it inside? How did you deal with that for so long, without telling anybody?"

"I don't know. I thought I pretty much had what I wanted. You were my best friend, we hung out, did stuff together, so that was good. And I had plenty of chicks. You know, sex is sex."

"Really?" Finn said, testily.

"Well, I thought so." Puck scratched his neck. "Until this summer."

"What happened this summer?"

Puck looked around the hallway, quick and subtle, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. He pressed a few buttons and called up a picture. It was Puck, with two girls. They were older, maybe college age, or a little older. He was holding his old guitar, and his hair looked shaggy, before he'd done the Mohawk. The dark-haired girl had a Mohawk of her own, though, with the sides shaved, just like Puck had now. She was tall and held an electric bass. The second girl was smaller; she had long, straight blonde hair and a delighted smile on her face. She had one arm around Puck's waist; the other one was on the dark-haired girl's butt.

"Daphne and Nicole happened," he said. "And… and Alex."

"Alex?" Finn said, and he felt a chill. Puck called up a new picture, this one of a tall, imposing man with long, curly red hair, past his shoulders. He had a red beard and moustache, flecked with gray, and piercing eyes. He was wearing black leather pants and a green silk shirt. Finn recognized the green shirt as the same one Puck had worn that weekend when he'd made breakfast for Finn and Kurt. He remembered Puck kneeling at his feet in that shirt, and he felt dizzy.

"I met them in Santa Fe, while we were there for my mom's prenatal clinic. Three weeks." A smile ghosted over Puck's lips as he touched the picture of Alex. Then he snapped his phone closed and put it back into his pocket. "It was… a learning experience."

"Alex – he…" Finn struggled for the right words. "He did what – you do. What we – did."

"Yeah," Puck said. "He taught me. They all did, about lots of things." He checked the hallway again, then looked at Finn. "They're a family, the three of them," he said, and his voice was intense. "What they have – it's what we could have. If we wanted it."

"Oh," said Finn, completely stunned.

"I mean, someday." Puck shrugged, casually. "We're just kids. We're not going to settle down like that, not yet."

_Why not?_ Finn wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead he said, "Right, of course." He was suddenly back in Puck's room, naked, the three of them, holding Kurt, holding Puck, feeling like he had everything he'd ever wanted. _Could we have… that?_ In one moment, he saw that it was possible, and it shone, bright and glorious, in his imagination.

"Is that what you want?" Finn said. His voice shook a little.

"Well, yeah," Puck said, as though it were obvious. Then he shrugged. "I've always wanted things too much. I'm used to going for what I want, and I'm used to getting it – for a while."

"Is that what this is?" Finn said softly. "For a while? You and me?"

Puck shook his head, not looking at Finn. "No. Not just for a while."

Finn took a breath, feeling a piece of his equilibrium return. "That's… that's good."

They walked toward the gym in silence, but Finn's head was buzzing with questions. _What happened with these people? Who is Alex? Do you love him? _None of them seemed like the kind of thing he could ask as they were getting ready to scrimmage.

But Puck caught his eye as they were taping up their knees, and said, almost offhandedly, "It was a good summer, but it's nothing like this."

"Oh," said Finn, and a smile appeared on his face before he could do anything to stop it.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt was surprised to find Puck in the back office, talking to his dad, when he finished the tire rotation he was working on after school. "So the ganache is the stuff inside the truffle?" Burt was saying.

"Yeah, it's basically cream and chocolate. It's about two to one chocolate to cream ratio inside cakes or truffles, but if you use it as a topping, like on an éclair, you use about a one to one ratio." Puck looked up and saw Kurt, and smiled. "Hey," he said.

"Hi, Noah," Kurt said, as casually as he knew how. He wasn't sure what to say next. _Great BJ this afternoon, buddy - you'll have to give me tips on technique? _ Luckily he was saved from this brain-curdling thought by the service bell in the office.

"More company. Kurt, how did those tires look?"

"They should have rotated them last month. There was a little uneven wear on the left front tread, but it wasn't too bad." He paused. "Um, Dad? Noah and I have some history homework to do. Could I go over to his house?"

Burt looked keenly at Puck, then Kurt, and finally nodded. "Okay, Kurt. Please be home by 10. And I'll see you tomorrow after school, okay, Puck?" Burt pointed a finger at Puck, in confirmation. Puck nodded and gave him the thumbs up.

"What was that all about?" Kurt asked, watching his dad head back to the office.

"I'm helping out with some lube jobs tomorrow," Puck said. He looked at Kurt. "I thought it might give us a chance to, you know, talk. About you and me."

Kurt's stomach began a slow burn, that spread down into his limbs and set up shop just under his navel. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he said.

"Yeah," Puck said. "I do. He's a good guy, and he'll understand what I'm going to tell him."

"What – what exactly are you going to tell him?" said Kurt, warily.

"Why I'm good for you," said Puck. "Why you're good for me."

Kurt tried not to panic. He gritted his teeth. "You're not going to tell him about -"

"No, I don't plan on it," Puck said, and this time his voice was amused. "I don't know. Do you usually share details of your sex life with your dad?"

"Noah," said Kurt patiently, "until three weeks ago, I didn't _have_ a sex life. I didn't have anything to share. Now, though…" He sighed. "No. He doesn't need to know about the things we do."

"Okay," Puck said. "So no details. Doesn't mean I can't tell him how I feel about you."

Kurt looked at him, standing strong, steady beside him, so different from the restless, combative boy who'd confronted him in the hallway today. "I can guess he'll have something to say about kicking your ass if you hurt me."

Puck grinned. "Well, he'd have to stand in line, because I'd be kicking my own ass first."

"Now, that's a concept I hope I never see executed," Kurt said, laughing. He picked up his bag, then reached out, feeling daring, and took Puck's hand. "You ready to go?"

"You bet," said Puck, a little pink in the face, but he held on to Kurt's hand as they walked out the door.

As they were getting into Puck's truck, Kurt's phone buzzed with a text:

1 _text msg – Finn Hudson_

4:49_pm – can't come over._

Kurt showed Puck the text, troubled. _What's up?_ he responded.

_Mom says I can't be at your house without a grownup._

"A _grownup?_ What is he, six?" Puck slammed the door on his truck, then hit the steering wheel hard with his hands. "Fuck!"

_RUOK? _Kurt sent.

There was a pause. _Miss you guys._

"What are we going to do?"

Kurt blew out his breath. "If he can't come to us, I guess we go to him."

Puck turned on the ignition, and nodded. "Somehow I don't think it's going to be quite the same with his mom sitting there watching us."

"No," Kurt agreed. "We're going to need to get creative."

"I like the way you think, Hummel," Puck said, grinning, and gunned the engine.

* * *

><p>Finn looked up from his homework when the doorbell rang, but his mom answered the door first.<p>

"Oh… hello, gentlemen." Her voice was polite, but there was something else there that made Finn come to the door.

"Kurt – Puck!" he said, opening the screen door for them. "Mom –"

"Carole, I'm sorry for putting you in this position," Kurt said, stepping through the door, towing Puck behind him, impeccably calm. "I know you set a limit for Finn and we're not here to argue about that."

"Yes, we are!" said Puck, and Kurt elbowed him in the ribs.

She wiped away a smile and went straight for stern. "Boys, I know you want to see each other," she said, looking at each of them, "but you're going to need to respect that I'm Finn's mother. I don't feel comfortable with him being alone in an empty house with a girlfriend, or – a boyfriend -" She paused, looking a little flustered, but went on. "I hope you can understand that."

Finn and Puck and Kurt all looked at one another. Finn shifted from one foot to another, feeling nearly frantic at being so close to the other two, but not able to touch them. He looked miserably at Puck's hand, held tightly by Kurt.

"Mom," he said, but Kurt interrupted.

"I can understand it, but I think you need to know a little bit about how things were for Finn for us at school today… for all of us." He tipped his head. "High school is all about hiding who you are, trying to fit in. We had to do that today. Not only did we have to hide who we are, but we had to hide how we felt, every little bit of it." He took a breath and let it out, slowly. "It was… exhausting."

"I turned into a real jerk," Puck added. "I didn't know how to handle it, but Kurt – he helped me figure it out."

"Kurt –" Finn tried, but Kurt put up a hand.

"Finn is an honest person, Carole. Telling a lie all day – that's hard on him." He looked at Finn, and so did Carole. "Tell me it's not true."

Finn sagged, closing his eyes. "Yeah. It sucked. But –"

"We're trying to be careful, to take this slowly," Kurt went on. "But it's going to be hard. Being in the closet – I don't think it's good for anybody, but especially not for somebody like Finn." He looked steadily at him, and Finn felt his face grow warm. "He needs us."

"It's not so bad," Finn protested, but Puck stepped forward and grabbed his shoulders.

"Yeah, it was!" he said. "You said it. It sucked. You were falling apart by the middle of the day."

"There's no shame in needing people, Finn," said Kurt. "I think this is how… this… works."

Finn leaned into Puck, and Puck pressed his head against Finn's, holding him up. His body felt solid, familiar. He relaxed a little.

Carole watched the two of them, her face softening. "Finn," she said, and hesitated.

Kurt went over to Finn and Puck and put a hand on each of them, on the curve of their backs. Finn could feel his mother's eyes on him, but he didn't care, he just couldn't help it, and he kissed Puck's forehead with a shuddering sigh. Then he reached out for Kurt, who slipped between their embrace like he'd never left. Finn touched his hair and sighed again. They stood there, holding one another, until Carole cleared her throat.

"Okay," she said. "Kurt, are you planning to run for public office? Because I think you could convince me of just about anything."

Kurt looked at her with shining eyes. "Thanks," he said. "Really."

She looked away, wiping her own eyes, and laughed. "You guys – well. At least I don't have to worry about you getting anyone pregnant," she joked. Puck made a strangled noise in his throat. Carole's eyes flew open, and she put her hand to her mouth. "Oh – oh, god, Puck, I'm sorry, I didn't –"

But Puck was laughing, and he came over to Carole and kind of _pounced _on her, like an attack hug, and she yelped, hugging back reflexively, then laughed in return. He was smiling, _beaming_, and Finn was so happy to see that expression on his friend's face that he laughed, too.

"Mom," he said, and he hugged her, too. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but… I really want – _I need…_ to spend some time with Kurt and Puck. Would it be better to do that when you're here, or when you're not here?"

She gave him a half-smile. "That's a very grown-up question from my young man," she said. "I don't really have a good answer for you. How about today, you can be in _there_ – " she pointed at the staircase to Finn's little attic room – "and I'll be in _here—"_ she pointed at the kitchen "—and then we'll talk about next time later?"

"Thank you, Carole," said Kurt again, speaking from his heart. He was the last of the three to give her a hug before they climbed the stairs to Finn's room.


	6. Chapter 6

On Tuesday morning, Puck did not walk down the hall with a big smile on his face, but he kind of felt like he might, maybe, another day. He flexed his guns. He felt powerful and magnanimous. The losers of the school were safe, today.

He caught up with Quinn and surprised her with the book on discount baby care he'd picked up that morning from the bookstore. "You know," he said, as she stared at the book in surprise, "in case you decide to keep the baby."

"That's… really sweet," said Quinn, uncertainly.

He shrugged. "Sure, whatever you decide. No pressure."

He did not tell her about the dream, which had happened for the second time last night. He remembered being in a fancy building, like a library or a museum, and walking with a small hand in his, reaching up to hold two fingers. The hand was sweaty and a little sticky, like it had recently held watermelon, maybe, or a piece of candy. She had a mass of yellow ringlets and was wearing a little hat – what was it called? Like a beret, but different – and a tiny plaid coat. She took three or four steps to each of his to keep up, but she made no noise of complaint. He couldn't see her face, but he _knew_ she was beautiful.

He thought, experimentally, _Papa? or Daddy? _He decided Papa was more his style.

It was a warm feeling that set up residence in his chest, and he took it out to look at it every now and then during the day. It was good to have a feeling like that when Finn wasn't around. It kept him feeling sane and calm all the way through lunch, when he sat across from Finn and ate his curried chicken in an entirely nonsexual way, and was able to appear to completely ignore Kurt, sitting at another table across the cafeteria.

During fourth period, he found himself actually paying attention to some of the lecture on the theme of consequences for one's actions in _All the King's Men_. He didn't have anything to add, but he thought it sounded pretty good and promised himself he'd read some of the book that night. Reading wasn't so easy for him, but he could muddle through. Maybe Kurt could read some to him. He grinned at the idea.

"Hey, Puckerman," came a whisper. He looked up. Santana, sitting in front of him, was turned around, staring accusingly at his face. "You look like someone just gave you the best blowjob ever. What's on your mind?"

His eyebrow went up. "What makes you think I'm going to tell you?"

"'Cause you love to talk about sex," she said, shrugging. "And 'cause I'm sneaky, like you, and you know I'll find out eventually."

"There's no fucking way you'd understand, Satan," he said, not unkindly. "I don't think I really get it myself."

Her pretty brows knitted and she looked at him, perplexed. "Hmmm," she said. "What, is it some kinky scene? I'm down with that."

"No, it's not that." But his brain did craft a scene, in which Kurt sat on the chair next to Finn, drinking a cider, with Puck at his feet, lazily holding each of their hands and listening raptly while Kurt and Finn took turns reading aloud from _All the King's Men_.

"What, then?"

Her impatience made him smile, and he calmly crossed his arms over his chest, looking at her. "Just a three-way with some dirty talk."

* * *

><p>Puck held on to the dream-memory of the little girl in the hat – a <em>tam-o'shanter,<em> he thought, _that was it –_ and the word _Papa_ all the way to Kurt's dad's tire store. Burt smiled and waved as Puck came in and hung up his red football jacket before putting on the coveralls waiting for him. Accustomed to the routine by now, Puck took a look at the clipboard with the routine oil and chassis lube jobs assembled for him to take care of.

It was a soothing activity, the sound of the engines and movement around him providing a pleasant white noise, and the action of using his hands and body to move, lift, adjust and handle each car's moving parts was as rhythmic and comfortable as dancing in Glee. Before he knew it, he was done.

He pulled _All the King's Men_ out of his bag and sat in the orange plastic chair in the front office. The words came slowly, but he was starting to make sense of the first chapter when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at Burt's solemn face.

"I hate to interrupt you," he said. "You look like you might be in another world."

"I'm not so good at this reading stuff," Puck admitted. "But, I don't know, today I felt like maybe I could try it."

"My wife looked like that when she would read," Burt said. "She would just get buried in the story, and I couldn't get her out for anything."

"I bet she liked to read to Kurt," he said, and Burt looked at him, surprised.

"Yeah, she sure did," he agreed. "We both did."

"My dad used to read to me," Puck said. "I remember one about a missing piece, you know, a circle with a wedge cut out of it, and he was rolling all over the place, looking for his missing piece. He would do a funny song with it. I can still remember the song."

"Some things stay with you," Burt agreed. "It's good to have those memories."

Puck scratched his neck. "Yeah. He wasn't much of a dad, but sometimes he came through."

Burt took _All the King's Men_ from Puck and looked at the back. "They remade the movie of this last year. Jude Law played Jack, and Sean Penn played Willie Stark. You see that?"

"No," Puck said. "I like Jude Law, though. He was awesome in Sherlock Holmes."

Burt put the book down and looked over Puck's clipboards while Puck took off his coveralls and folded them back up. "This is working out pretty good for me, Puck," Burt said, taking off his baseball cap and rubbing his bald head. He leaned against the table next to Puck. "You do good work. But I'll be honest: I'm not sure I understand your reasons for coming over to help me out. What's in it for you?"

"I guess I like to help," Puck said, but it sounded weak, and he tried again. "I mean, I like working here. It's kind of, I don't know. Peaceful."

Burt nodded, slowly. "Okay," he said.

"There's something else," Puck added. He paused to take a breath. He took a look at that word again: _Papa,_ and felt courage. "It's about Kurt."

Burt just watched him, and Puck continued. "Kurt helped me figure some things out last week, some things that were… confusing to me. He helped me a lot, more than I expected. He's pretty smart. Like, really smart, about people."

"Yeah," Burt agreed, smiling a little. Puck looked at the expression of love and pride on his face, and he thought, _That's what it's like to be the papa._

"And I helped him figure some things out, too. We – we kind of get each other. I think because we have some… some things in common."

Burt's gaze was steady. "Are you trying to tell me something about yourself? Or about Kurt?"

"Both," Puck said. "And about – Finn."

"Finn," Burt said, surprised, and he stopped, looking hard at the floor.

"Kurt and I, we both – we need Finn," he said. "I've been friends with Finn forever. Kurt helped me and Finn figure things out first. But you remember what happened, with Finn and the singing and all. Finn and Kurt, they kind of fell for each other. I don't think it was an accident, though."

"You don't," said Burt, and he still was looking at the floor. He took off his cap again and wiped off his head, which looked sweaty.

"No," said Puck, with all the certainty he could manage. "I think we all belong together. It's what we want. It's what Kurt wants." He opened his hands. "This – I asked Kurt if I could talk with you about it, to tell you, because I know he was worried what you might think."

Burt looked at him then. He looked like he was struggling a little, but his eyes were calm. "You have to admit, Puck, it's a little unusual," he said.

"Yeah, but it's good," he said, and he didn't make it sound anything other than what it was. "Like, for his heart. It's good for him, and for me, and for Finn. Kurt really wants your approval." He looked at Burt's hand, which was gripping the edge of the table. "He admires you so much. And, uh, so do I."

Burt cracked an authentic grin. "Thanks, Puck. You seem like a good kid." Then he sighed, a great big, body-moving breath in, and out. "Well… if it counts for anything, I'd guessed. About you, and Kurt."

"You did?" Puck said, surprised. Burt gave him a look.

"What am I supposed to think when a boy comes to my son and cooks him a gourmet dinner? And when Kurt was missing the other day – I could tell you cared for him, beyond what I would expect from a casual school friend."

"Yeah, I do," said Puck. "Finn does, too."

"And you think Kurt has… feelings for you?" Burt said.

Puck nodded, turning only a little pink. "I know he does. He said so."

Burt was silent a little longer. "You know, when you're a dad, they say it's like walking around with your heart on the outside of your body." He shook his head. "With Kurt, it's a hundred times more than that, because of who he is. He's always taking flack for how he looks and sounds."

"I used to be one of those guys who'd give him a hard time, Burt," Puck said. "But I never wanted to hurt him. I just didn't understand." He laughed a little. "I didn't understand about me, either. Now – Kurt takes care of me."

"Yeah?" Burt said, looking surprised.

Puck nodded. "He's the strong one, that's for sure. I really need that. I'm not ashamed to admit it." _I'm not, _Puck thought, amazed at himself. _I'm really not._

Burt's expression thawed a little into honest affection for Puck. "Okay," he said. "Yeah, Puck, I'll tell you, this sounds like a recipe for disaster, but - I think I trust you with Kurt."

"He said you were going to threaten to kick my ass if I hurt him," he smiled.

Burt laughed. "Pretty much, yeah," said Burt, "but you're a good guy."

Puck felt a burst of energy from his chest. _It was my heart,_ he thought. _I'm a good guy. _He felt like the Grinch at the end of the book, where his heart grew larger. "… Thanks," he said, hoarsely. "I'm trying. I'm really trying. Kurt deserves it."

"Yeah, he does," Burt agreed. He held out his hand, and Puck shook it. Burt's hand was warm and strong.

"I told him I'd text him as soon as things were done here," Puck said. "I bet he's sitting out there in his car, trying not to puke."

"Nah," said Burt. "He's tough. And he knows I love him, no matter what." Burt paused. "Hey, how about we go rent a copy of that _All the King's Men_ and put it on while we eat? How's Chinese sound? You could, you know... let Finn know he's welcome, too."

Puck smiled big, feeling it come from his heart. "I bet he'd like that."


	7. Chapter 7

4th period English had always been a little on the slow side, but now that it was the penultimate class before their standing date, Kurt found it to be positively glacial. He propped his chin up on his fist and tried to rest without crushing the pressed front of his grey Neil Barrett vest. He watched Finn's arm bend and dip as he took notes, two seats next to him. He watched Puck's shoulders flex as he got something out of his bag, two seats in front of him.

His phone buzzed, and he checked it.

_1 text – Noah Puckerman_

_11:58pm: looking pretty hot today._

Kurt choked on his gum. Finn glanced at him, but didn't dwell after making sure Kurt was okay. Kurt casually looked across the room in the opposite direction, then checked out Puck from the corner of his eye. Puck was grinning and flexing one of his "guns."

Kurt sighed and sent back: _not so bad yourself._

_You like what you see? _Puck texted.

_You know I do,_ Kurt sent.

Puck did an elaborate stretch with his arms above his head. His tight black tank top rippled and outlined the muscles in his shoulders and back. Kurt rolled his eyes and shifted in his seat.

"Do you have something to add, Mr. Puckerman?" Mrs. Rasmussen asked, interrupting his lecture on the Spider Web theory in _All the King's Men._

"Nah," he said, batting his hand in a generous gesture. "But thanks. You go ahead."

_How was that?_ Puck sent when his hands were back under the desk.

_Show-off,_ Kurt replied.

_You think it's hot._

Kurt could not disagree. _You don't need to do anything to get me hot._

_Oh yeah?_ Puck dropped his pencil on the floor, bent down to pick it up, and glanced back at Kurt through lowered lids. It was definitely not a casual look. Kurt felt like a two ton weight was smothering his chest. He swallowed with difficulty.

Finn looked over again, through the body of Roger Spencer sitting between them, and then at Puck, and took in what was happening. His eyes narrowed, and he cleared his throat, once.

Puck quickly straightened up in his seat and put his hands on top of his desk, in plain view. Kurt glanced over at Finn and their eyes shared a smile, even if their lips did not. There were no more texts from Puck.

When the bell rang, Puck, the bearer of the master key, was out of his seat like a shot and down the hall. Finn stood more slowly and smiled at Kurt, a real smile, before following him out the door. Kurt felt warm inside at that smile, and watched Finn walk away.

"Eyes, Kurt," Mercedes murmured as she approached with Tina. Then in a louder voice, "You busy today after school?"

"Just helping my dad." He looked around and saw Rachel approaching as well. "What's going on?"

Tina put an arm around Mercedes. "We thought a girl's afternoon might be in order," she said. "Gossip, makeovers, Patti LuPone…"

"You had me at makeover," Kurt said, zipping his bag shut. "They're like crack to me. I'm in."

"You could come to my house," Rachel offered, and they all stopped and looked at her. "My dads could make us miniature pizzas?" she said, hesitantly.

Mercedes and Kurt shared a look that clearly said, _Is she in or out?_ Tina just waited to follow their lead, but she chewed on her lip.

"Sure, Rachel," said Kurt, and was rewarded with a bright smile and a whirlwind response about the contents of Rachel's Broadway CD collection.

"How is this going to work?" Mercedes whispered to Kurt as they continued out the door.

"I don't know," Kurt said, "but she could definitely use a makeover. I mean, look – she's wearing a pantsuit. Think of it as your good deed for the day."

"Mmm," said Mercedes. "Just promise me you'll stop me if I try to kill her, okay? I'll pick you up at the garage at 4:30."

Kurt hurried on down the hall and stopped briefly outside the _Private_ door, but he heard nothing. No one was in sight, so he knocked on the door, but there was no answer for a minute. He knocked again, harder, and this time the door opened a crack. He slipped into the darkness, closed and locked it behind him.

"It was still stupid," Finn was saying in a low voice.

He heard Puck say "I didn't do anything," and then a swat, a yelp, and silence.

"What would have happened if you'd gotten caught texting in class?" Finn said. His voice was steady, reasonable, without any anger.

Puck carried the anger for both of them. "Suspension," he said. "So what?"

"Wright would have passed the phone on to Figgins," he continued. "With Kurt's name in the text history. It would have been the end."

"So what?" Puck said again. "You hate hiding as much as Kurt does. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is, you agreed to _ask_ before doing things like this," Finn said. "We're a team, the three of us. We have to make these kind of decisions together."

"You think I'm not capable of making decisions myself," Puck said tightly. Finn sighed.

"You know that's not true. Look how great you did with Kurt's dad. You can do just fine. You just need to be in the right frame of mind, and you can't always tell for sure if you are or not. We'll be your check, your confirmation."

Now Kurt's eyes had adjusted to the dark. He could see Puck, arms crossed, standing on one side, Finn on the other. Finn looked at Kurt with appeal in his eyes. Kurt went to Puck and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It was very sweet, what you did," he said. "I know you just did it to make me happy."

"Yeah!" Puck said, angrily, looking at Finn.

"Mmmm," he said, soothingly. "You know what else makes me happy?"

"What?"

"When you listen to Finn, and you do as you're told." He put his arms around Puck's waist from behind, feeling the strong back and shoulder muscles begin to relax.

"Yeah?" Puck said again, and this time it was uncertain, a question.

"Yes. That's your job. It's not your call to make decisions. You're not in charge here."

He felt those words reverberate through Puck, felt him release, and he held him around the waist to keep him from staggering. "Oh," he said, in a small voice.

There was one small wooden chair, covered with paint and old boxes. Finn uncovered it and sat down. "Puck," he said, gently. "Come here." Puck went to him and let Finn pull him down on his lap. Finn put his arms around him and drew Puck's head down to lay on his chest. Puck grew still.

"Who are you?" Finn asked. Puck flinched. "Come on, just tell me. Who are you?"

"N-noah." Puck hesitated. "Noah Puckerman."

Finn nodded. "And who am I?"

"Finn Hudson."

"Who's in charge?" Finn said.

"You are," Puck said. There was no question.

"Where do you belong?"

"Here," he whispered. "Right here."

"Who do you belong to?"

"You," Puck said, and it was a plea.

"Yes, that's right." Finn wrapped him in a fierce embrace. "You're mine."

Kurt felt a sharp pain in his chest, watching them. He held his own arms in his hands and waited, not certain what he was waiting for. _Who belongs to me?_ he wondered. _And to whom do I belong?_

Finn looked up at Kurt, and there was peace, and love in his eyes, but Kurt wasn't sure who it was for. Kurt approached, knelt in front of Puck, and touched his face. Puck's eyes slowly focused on him. His pupils were huge and luminous.

"Sweetheart… you can make mistakes," he said. "You don't have to be perfect. I still love you. You can depend on us to take care of it."

"Okay," said Puck, and he seemed completely willing to accept this.

Kurt looked at Finn. "I don't think he needs anything else right now," he whispered. "I'm going to take off – just be here with him."

"Are you sure?" Finn asked. Kurt nodded, not trusting his voice. Finn sighed, and held Puck a little tighter. Kurt backed out slowly, leaving them to their connection, and walked alone to American history.


	8. Chapter 8

Rachel wasn't kidding about her Broadway CD collection. Mercedes and Tina spent a half hour compiling a playlist of their favorite tracks and eating most of the miniature pizzas Rachel's dad had made them, while Kurt sorted through Rachel's wardrobe to find some clothes that didn't completely suck. At least she had a complete selection of organic skin care products. Kurt was happy to let himself be distracted from his own thoughts of Finn and Puck.

He reached over and carefully applied wax under the arch of Rachel's brow. "The key is never to wax above the eyebrow," he said. "Always shape from below."

Rachel looked up at him, somewhat warily. "Kurt? I – I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with, and I'm glad you guys came over today, but… we haven't really been friends, have we?"

Kurt raised a carefully sculptured brow of his own. "Friends? Hardly." Rachel let out a little squeak as he smoothly ripped the wax off her face. "Most of the time I can barely stand to be in the same room with you. Especially this one." He looked around with distaste at the decor. "You're extremely talented, Rachel, but I think we have a long way to go before we could be friends."

She rubbed cream into one cheek, watching him. "So… why did you agree to give me a makeover?"

"Can't a fella just want to lend a helping hand?" he said airily.

"No," she said. "Not to me. People aren't nice to me for no reason."

Kurt felt an unexpected pang of sympathy for Rachel. He applied a little powder to her cheek with a large brush. "Well – you really are very pretty. If you change your look, New Directions is sure to benefit. We just need to broaden your appeal. I want every boy in school to do a double take when you strut past."

She looked at him shyly. "There's only just one boy I'd like to impress. Can you keep a secret?"

He smiled back. "Of course." _Especially lately._

"I'm in love… with Finn."

The inside fell out of Kurt's stomach and the smile froze on his face. _"_Really." _Oh, great. That's the last thing he needs right now – more distractions. _ He sighed. "I understand completely. Let's – let's move on to makeup."

_I can take care of this,_ Kurt thought suddenly. He took out a large pouf and started to aggressively apply foundation to Rachel's skin. "I know for a fact that Finn is attracted to loose women."

"But Quinn – she's so wholesome," Rachel stuttered.

"Think about it, Rachel. What did Sandy do in _Grease_ to land Danny Zukko? You need to dress like a ho." He looked at himself in the mirror above her head, brandishing a lip brush, and didn't have to work too hard to sound wistful. "Maybe if your look was better, more desirable, Finn would be in your arms right now, instead of… Quinn's."

* * *

><p><em>1 text – Noah Puckerman<em>

_8:31pm: yo, Kurt, dessert at my house? be there  
><em>

_5 texts – Finn Hudson_

_8:48pm: are you coming over to Puck's - he's making truffles_

_8:52pm: come over, Kurt – they are delish_

_8:55pm: Kurt, everything OK?_

_8:59pm: look, I'm going to have to come over and find you_

_9:01pm: I'm on my way  
><em>

Finn leaned on the doorbell, and after a few minutes of this, Burt's annoyed face appeared at the door. "Finn, what the heck is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Finn said.

Burt held up Kurt's Juicy Couture iPhone case. "Kurt went over to Rachel's house. He left his phone here and said not to answer it."

Finn looked at the phone and sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I think… I messed up today." Burt opened the door and let him in, frowning.

"Great. I thought maybe you being guys and all, the teenage drama would be a little less." He and Burt exchanged looks.

"Sorry," he offered, and Burt shrugged.

"It's okay. So I'm guessing this means something." Burt held up the phone again significantly. "I just have no idea what."

"I guess it could mean I should call Mercedes and try to get Kurt to tell me what's wrong."

"That sounds like a good plan," Burt agreed, grinning. "And look, here's a convenient phone that likely has Mercedes on speed dial."

"Oh, I almost forgot –" Finn felt in his jacket pocket and pulled out a paper bag. "From Puck."

Burt looked in the bag and cracked a big smile as he pulled out a luscious truffle rolled in cocoa powder. "From Puck. He's full of surprises."

"Actually, I think he's pretty predictable, once you get to know him," Finn said, dialing Mercedes' number on Kurt's phone. Burt left him alone with a little wave, munching on the truffle.

Mercedes picked up on the third ring. "Kurt, is your phone butt-calling me again?" he heard her say.

"Mercedes? It's, uh, it's Finn." He wandered downstairs and found his spot on the green couch.

"Why, Finn Hudson, how strange to see Kurt's name come up on the phone when it's you on the other end," she said, sounding both greatly annoyed and highly amused. He heard Kurt's voice in the background say, "What in the holy hell, Mercedes?"

Finn looked at the phone, then grinned. "You know what? You just gave me an excellent idea. Thanks, Mercedes."

"Finn, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I am thinking this boy here does not want to talk to you. You should see the finger wagging he's doing." He could hear Tina and Rachel laughing in the background over Kurt's protests.

Finn made his voice low. "Mercedes, um, I don't think Tina and Rachel should know about – you know. Me and Kurt."

"I got it, I got it. So, you found Kurt's phone at school and you wanted to give it back?"

"Uh… sure. Good one."

"I'm full of them," she said, and she didn't sound particularly unfriendly to Finn. He cleared his throat.

"Is… Kurt mad at me?"

"It didn't come up, actually." He heard Kurt hiss something at Mercedes and she said, "Hey, cool it, you'll get your phone back tomorrow."

"Tell him… I will wait for him at his place. Um, wait, don't –"

"Finn said he would drop it off at your house," she said to Kurt. "Is that right, Finn?"

"Uh, sure." Finn sighed. "I really suck at this lying thing."

"Yeah, you do," said Mercedes. Then, quietly, she said, "You're a good guy." She hung up.

Finn fiddled with Kurt's phone for a moment, making some adjustments. Then he did the same thing to his own phone. Finally, he called Puck. "He's over at Rachel's house with Mercedes and Tina," he said, without preamble.

"At Berry's? Since when are they friends?"

"Dude, since when are any of us friends?" Finn said, and laughed. "Something about Glee changes you, I guess."

"Maybe there's something to Azimio's idea that Glee makes you gay," Puck said.

"I was hot for you long before I started Glee," Finn said, and he heard Puck draw a breath.

"Well… um."

"Puck, I think I messed up with Kurt today. I'm gonna stay here and wait for him, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Puck said, and he sounded fine, but Finn thought about Kurt being _fine,_ and he wondered. _This is so complicated._ He sighed.

"Did you tell your mom about dinner at my house this Saturday?"

"Yeah. She's got the evening off. She doesn't know what's up, yet, but she'll be there."

"Are you going to talk to her first?" Finn paused. "Do you want me to do it?"

"No… I don't really… it's not like with your mom. She's not going to like it."

Finn stretched out on the couch, putting his feet on the empty center cushion where Kurt usually sat. "Dude, I don't know if my mom _likes it_, either."

"Your mom is completely awesome. My mom is going to bitch and moan about grandchildren and how you're not Jewish."

He propped one of the cushions under his head. "I could, like, convert."

Puck laughed, and he sounded a little shocked. "Man. You must really love me."

"Yeah," Finn said. There was a silence.

"I love you, too," Puck said softly. Finn swallowed, feeling the warmth in his chest, radiating out to his cheeks and arms and legs. He remembered this afternoon, with Puck on his lap, holding him, feeling the sense of belonging, of ownership, and he found he couldn't say anything.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Puck said, and hung up.

"Bye," said Finn to the empty line. He put his own phone back in his pocket and set Kurt's on the table next to him, and closed his eyes.

When Kurt came home a few hours later, he found Finn asleep, his long limbs dangling over the edge of the couch. He stood and watched him sleep for several minutes, touching his hair, his cheek, his open mouth. Then he covered him up with the comforter from the guest room. He dialed a number he'd recently added to his contact list.

"Hello?" came a sleepy voice.

"Carole? It's Kurt," he said quietly.

"Kurt – is everything okay?" she said, suddenly alert.

"Yes. I just got home and I found Finn sleeping on the couch. Is it okay if I let him sleep? I – I promise I won't… disturb him."

He could hear her smiling. "I trust you, Kurt. Yes, it's okay. Thank you for calling to let me know. We'll see you for dinner on Saturday, right?"

"Yes, my dad and I will be there," he said. "Good night, Carole."

"Good night, Kurt."

After some deliberation, he chose a plain grey Armani crewneck sweater that was a little big on him, folded it neatly, and left it on the table next to the couch. Then he went to his own room and locked the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Finn was greeted Thursday morning in the hallway by a knockout stranger in a black bustier. "Hi, Finn," she said, and it took Finn a few minutes to recognize her voice.

"Rachel?" he said, looking at her with wide eyes.

She flashed a look at him under lowered lids, and added a sexy smile. Finn was struck in that moment by how much she reminded him of Puck, and he smiled back. "I was thinking that I could help you with our Glee club assignment," she said. "You could come over to my house and we could, you know. Sing."

"Um, sure," he said, watching the way her hair slipped over her bare shoulders.

"Great," she said, smiling brilliantly. "I'll see you on Friday at 8?"

Finn watched her hips move as she walked down the hall, and he had to shake his head to clear it of confusion. _Rachel?_ he thought. _But she's a… girl._

Then he noticed Kurt move into place beside Rachel and walk down the hall with her, smiling confidentially, whispering together. Finn put a hand on his chest, on the soft grey sweater Kurt had left for him, hidden under his plaid shirt. Kurt had already been gone when he'd woken up on the green couch. He liked the feeling of wearing Kurt's sweater, but he would so have preferred to have _him_, walking beside him, smiling and whispering like that, for everyone to see. He wondered if there would ever come a time when that would be possible.

* * *

><p><em>Puck sat at his kitchen table, the one he'd grown up with, a big wooden butcher block with thick legs, and ate a bowl of Chex cereal. It had been his usual breakfast before he could cook, but he hadn't eaten it in years. He wondered why he was eating it now.<em>

_The little blonde girl sat in across from him, eating her own bowl. She was small enough that it took a little effort to keep her body over the table, but she neatly spooned up the cereal and placed each bite in her tiny mouth, crunching silently and watching Puck with big eyes. They were brown, he saw, or maybe hazel._

"_Do you know who I am?"_

_She nodded. _

"_Am I your daddy?"_

_Her eyes clouded, and she shook her head. _

_He swallowed. "Your… your papa?"_

_She nodded, eating another bite of cereal._

"_Do you have a mommy?"_

_She nodded, and pointed down the hall. Puck turned to see someone standing in the doorway to the dining room. He squinted, not quite able to see the details, but there was long hair, and a sweet smile…_

Puck woke with the taste of cereal in his mouth and an inexplicable longing to hear her voice, just once. It stayed with him all morning, until Quinn approached him in the hall and asked if he would babysit with her on Friday night.

"Yeah, sure," he said, with more enthusiasm than he normally would have. "I'll bring my guitar." Then he wondered if this was one of those ideas where he should ask Finn first. Part of him thought it might be a good idea, but another part, a stubborn part, thought, _I don't need to ask Finn before I do anything._ It was tempting.

"I, um, I should make sure it's okay with my mom first," he said. Quinn cocked an eyebrow at this, but she nodded. "I'll let you know."

* * *

><p>Glee club's mood was mixed when Mr, Schue introduced the number from <em>Hair<em>, but the bag of wigs he brought forth made them all laugh. The excitement level went up even as Rachel started to fret. "We don't need hairography, Mr. Schue," she insisted. "It's just a distraction from our talent."

Kurt immediately grabbed for the one blonde wig in the pile. Finn got one with long, black locks and Puck got a curly brown one. Tina helped Kurt put it on, tucking his sandy brown hair underneath, then showed him his reflection in her compact mirror.

"You're lovely, Kurt," she giggled as he gazed at himself, surprised. The spiky bangs made his eyes look bigger and the lighter color hollowed his cheekbones.

He glanced across the room to see Finn staring at him, looking perplexed. Finn met his eyes briefly, and Kurt blew him a theatrical kiss. Finn's cheeks went red, and he looked away.

Quinn helped Finn into his wig; Puck had no trouble slipping his bouffant 80's 'do over his shorn head. Brittany gave them the instruction to pretend they were getting tazered, and everyone started throwing their heads around.

Kurt gave his hair an experimental toss, feeling the soft tresses bounce around his shoulders. It was, no pun intended, a heady feeling. "Diva hair," Kurt murmured, and laughed. He felt confident. Sexy. He wasn't sure he'd ever felt quite like this before.

"Nice, Hummel," Kurt heard Puck's voice say behind him, and he dared to look at him over his shoulder, dropping his lids and smiling. _Pretending to be sexy was easier with the wig on_, Kurt thought.

"Very early Def Leppard, Noah," he said, and was gratified to see Puck in his brown wig give him a little bump and grind dance. He laughed. Nobody noticed – everyone was playing, pretending. He was safe.

Kurt strutted across the room to stand in front of Finn, who was whirling his hair around and playing air guitar. "Motley Crue or Guns'n'Roses?" he asked, smiling.

"Uh, I was thinking more Alice in Chains," Finn said, looking around at anything except Kurt.

"How about me?" Kurt posed, tossing his hair. "Could I pass for Stevie Nicks?"

"Maybe in a dark alley after six beers," said Quinn, pulling her own hair back and fastening it in her customary ponytail. "But I doubt they'd be looking at your face."

Kurt was about to make a scathing retort about her expanding belly, but Finn spoke up first. "Don't talk like that to him, Quinn," he protested.

"Sorry, Kurt," she said prettily, not at all sorry.

"Sure, whatever," he said, stepping back, staring hard at her. She looked back. _What did she know?_ he thought suddenly. _What had Finn told her, and what had she figured out on her own?_

Finn smiled at him, apologetically. "You look good, Kurt," he said, and squeezed his shoulder in a bro-approved gesture of affection. It was nothing, but Kurt felt warm all over, and he nodded his thanks to Finn.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for all of them, the hairography number was much more fun to dress up for than it was to practice. Mr. Schue's mashup wasn't really gelling, and after an hour of rehearsal, they hadn't made a lot of progress. They broke up into pairs to work on the pacing and choreography. Santana grabbed Puck and pulled him into the alcove outside the choir room.<p>

"So, Puckerman," she said brightly, and directed him into a chair. He looked at her with annoyed affection.

"Yeah, Satan?" he said.

"You been pretty busy this last year," she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "We've barely hung out at all."

"Yeah, I've been doing a lot of stuff, with football and Glee, and my guitar," he said.

"… and by _hang out,_ I mean get nasty with," she added, straddling his lap. He sighed and put his hands around her waist.

"Sorry, not interested," he said, standing up suddenly and lifting her up right over his shoulder. She screeched and flailed her arms, her hair standing on end, as he threw her into a fireman's carry, marched across the small space and deposited her squarely on her butt.

"_¡Pendejo!"_ she swore. "What was that for?"

"Look," he said, "we've had a good time, Santana, but I'm dating someone."

"I knew it!" she said, pointing a manicured finger at Puck. "You looked way too happy the other day in class. Who is it?"

"Not saying," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Come on, Puck, I told you about that hot threeway with the Cridersville men's and women's basketball captains," she wheedled, putting her hands on top of his arms.

"It's not like that, okay?" He gently removed her hands, holding them for a moment. "This is serious."

"What? Noah Puckerman, settling down?" She mimed a heart attack, staggering back. "_¡No me lo creo!"_

"Believe it," he said. "I've never felt like this before. Not with anyone."

She stilled, her eyes widening. "For real?"

"Yeah." He shook his head. "For real. And you don't tell anyone, got it? I've got enough dirt on you to fertilize a garden."

"Hey, I'm on your side, Puck," she said placatingly. "Whoever she is, she's gotta be quite a catch to stop the sex shark."

"You don't know the half of it," he said, and laughed. "Now, weren't we supposed to do some practicing…?"


	10. Chapter 10

They'd had to postpone their 4th period rendezvous that day because of a burst pipe just outside the _Private_ janitor closet. Finn had circled the men's room for a few minutes, hoping to clear it quickly enough to get the bathroom secured for their own use, but there was too much traffic and he gave up in order to make it to 5th period on time for once.

Now Glee was over and Finn stalled in the choir room while the rest of the club trickled out, heading home. He pulled out his phone and sent a text message to Kurt on the other side of the room, who was putting his blonde wig away and fussing with his own somewhat flattened hair.

Kurt picked up his buzzing phone, glanced at it, then did a doubletake. He looked up at Finn for a second, long enough to see his nod.

_1 text message – Tina X. Cohen-Chang_

_2:25pm: it's really finn, do you see Tina's name?_

Kurt replied, and Finn saw:

_1 text message – Rachel X. Berry_

_2:25pm: Yeah, how did you do that?_

Finn grinned at his phone. "Changed the names in your and my address books. The fake ones have x's, so you'll know. Puck sees Santana X. for you and Brittany X. for me."

Kurt squinted at him. "Why?"

"Just in case we get caught texting, we won't, you know. Expose one another."

Kurt looked around the empty choir room. "God, Finn." His voice was low and tired. "This sucks."

"Yeah," said Finn, not looking at Kurt, "but it's better than not having it."

"Is it?" Kurt said.

Finn looked up quickly. "Yeah," he said, fiercely. "And it's not going to be like this forever. Just, we need to… take time. Take care. Do it right."

Kurt looked at his hands. "I don't know if I know how to do it right."

Finn moved toward him. "What's going on, Kurt?"

Kurt stood and walked away from him, looking at the floor. "I… I don't know. I'm confused."

"Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, you didn't do anything. I'm… I'm having trouble managing all this, that's all."

Finn gave him a hurt look. "Who says you have to do it alone? I want to help."

"I'm not sure I want you to help." Kurt shuffled his feet.

"What does that mean?" Finn bit out, and Kurt looked around nervously.

"Come on," he said, and picked up his bag. Finn followed him down the hall, texting to Puck:

_1 text message – Brittany X. Pierce_

_2:30pm: finn says meet in the usual spot asap_

Puck was there when they arrived, and held up his cell phone with a questioning look. "Dude. Did you tell her—"

"Just go inside, _please,_" Kurt said, and the desperation in his voice was so great that Puck stopped talking and jumped to unlock the door. Puck looked at Finn, who was scoping the halls, and reached out to take his hand. Finn looked at the hand gratefully, and they went into the dark closet together.

Kurt was standing on the other side of the small space and gestured for them to shut the door. The light dimmed as Puck locked the door behind them. "We're safe," he said. "What the hell, Finn?"

"I'll explain about the text later, Puck," he said. "Something is wrong with Kurt."

"What? What is it?" Puck moved toward him, but Kurt held up a hand.

"Just – wait." In the dim light, standing by himself, Kurt looked small and scared and alone. It hurt Finn's heart to see him like that, he who usually was so fearless and proud.

"Noah – yesterday you and Finn – did something here." He touched the back of the paint-stained wooden chair. "It was something. I'm not sure what it was. You said – you belonged to him."

"Yeah," Puck said quietly, but did not look away. "I do."

Kurt bit his lip and closed his eyes. "I was trying to figure out… what that was all about. Can you really belong to another person?"

"I think you can promise to care for them, and be responsible for them, no matter what," said Finn.

Kurt nodded. "Is that what it means for you, Noah?"

"That's part of it," he said. "And to have a place to belong, a person who's safe. Like home." Finn reached out and stroked the back of Puck's neck, and Puck leaned into him a little.

"Okay," Kurt said. He took a shaky breath. "What about – me. Do you belong to me, too?"

"Do you – do you want me to?" Puck said, sounding shocked.

"I don't _know,"_ said Kurt, anguished. He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know."

Finn drew Puck closer to Kurt, not too close, but within touching distance. "I think that's pretty important to know, before you start making promises like that," he said, keeping his voice gentle.

"I understand," Kurt said. He stepped forward into the ring of their embrace, putting an arm around each of them, so they stood with Kurt in the middle. They each wrapped their arms around him, holding him up, feeling how tense he was. Kurt did not relax, but he did take a few breaths, each one a little less pained than the last.

"I – don't know what I want, exactly," he said, pressing his face into Finn's chest. "I've been afraid, and I'm not sure of what. I feel – like I'm losing you."

"Kurt," Puck said, and "Baby," Finn said, and then they were kissing him, each on either side, stroking his hair, his back, his neck, and Finn could feel him _almost, almost_ let him in, he was yearning for it, but finally he stepped away and shook his head.

"I need to take a day to think about this," he said. "Please. We've got this dinner tomorrow and it's – a big deal. I want to be ready. I don't want to fall apart in the middle of the salad course, you know?"

"Kurt, you shouldn't be alone in this," Finn said, but Kurt shook his head again.

"I've got to figure it out in my head before I can let you help," he said.

"It's okay," said Puck, and stroked his shoulder. Kurt let him, and Finn felt a sudden pang. _Am I jealous of – them? _he wondered.

"Oh, shit, I almost forgot," Puck said. "Um, Finn – Quinn wanted to know if I could babysit with her tonight. I thought maybe – I should – you know, ask you first."

"Babysit with Quinn?" Finn said, stumped. _What is she up to?_ He looked to Kurt, but Kurt wasn't looking back. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah, I do," said Puck. "I think it would be fun."

"Okay," Finn said, and took Puck's hand. "Thanks for – checking with me."

Puck took a deep breath. "Yeah, well, I almost didn't. I heard that voice telling me not to do it, and I said, fuck that. I don't want to mess this up."

Finn knew he didn't mean the babysitting. "It's okay, Puck. You can mess up. We still love you."

"I know it," said Puck, and he sounded sure. He sounded _fine, _and Finn could tell now, the difference, between really actually fine and not really actually fine. _I'm learning,_ he thought.

"What are you doing tonight?" Finn said to Kurt.

"I'll go to Mercedes' house," he said. "Just – give me a little while. I'll take my phone, but I don't want to see you until tomorrow."

Finn sighed. "I don't like it, Kurt, but I'll go along with it." He reached out his other hand and, after a moment, Kurt took it. "I… I miss you," he added.

"I miss you too," Kurt said. He squeezed their hands and let them go. "Have fun babysitting, Noah."

After Kurt had gone, Finn realized he hadn't asked Finn where he would be tonight. He thought about Rachel and felt a uneasy stirring in his gut.

"I'll go shopping tomorrow morning and come over to your house around noon to start cooking," Puck said.

"Is everything all set? You know what stuff you need?"

Puck nodded. "Menu's all set. It's going to be epic. Come hungry."

Finn put his arms around Puck and pulled their hips together, rubbing, feeling their heat. "I'm trying not to freak out about it," Finn said. "All of our parents, together – what if they have a fit? What if they say we can't do this?"

"I don't think they get a say," said Puck. He put his hands under Finn's shirt and Finn shivered, feeling their skin touch. "This is about us. We need it."

"God," moaned Finn, "so much." He took Puck's face in his hands, felt the rough texture of his cheeks under his fingers. "It's a little strange, isn't it, to want this so much, all of a sudden? I can't believe I lived without it." He kissed him, gently.

"You never have to, again," said Puck, and kissed him back.

Finn closed his eyes, holding the moment close, feeling the lack of Kurt's presence, but glorying in the absolute _rightness_ of being here with Puck. In the dark, away from all the noise and confusion of school and friends and family, he knew what he wanted. "When do we get to spend the night together again?" he whispered into Puck's ear.

Puck's body shivered under his, and he pressed his hard cock against Finn, breathing faster. Finn slipped a hand into Puck's jeans and gripped him firmly in his hand. "I'm pretty good at sneaking out," he said, his voice thick with need. "How about I come over tonight?"

"Yeah." He inched Puck's zipper down and helped him drop his jeans and underwear to the floor. "We need to talk to Kurt." Finn kissed Puck's throat, up the curve of his jaw. He snuck a hand up to grab him by the nape of his neck, pulling him down into Finn's mouth.

"I want to do… things… to you," said Finn against his skin, and Puck groaned, low and frustrated. He unzipped Finn's jeans and tugged them down, just halfway down his legs, and Finn braced himself against the wall to keep from tumbling to the floor.

"What do you want?" Puck pressed him up on the wall, grinding his bare cock into the hollow of Finn's hip, tracing a hand down his spine, cupping Finn's ass in his strong hand. His hand, squeezing there, made Finn thrust back, seeing stars.

"I want to… be inside you," Finn said, and Puck chuckled. It was the sexiest sound in the world.

"Come on, dammit, tell me what you're going do to me. I want to hear you say it."

"I'm going to fuck you," Finn hissed, in his ear, and bit his neck, hard. Puck smothered a shout and rutted, equally hard, against Finn, cursing and moaning his approval. "I'm going to lay you down and make you take it – I'm going to make you mine. _Mine."_

"Yours," Puck gasped, "god, yes, fuck me, _sir." _Finn helplessly shouted in response as their twin hands groped and found purchase and stroked each other to completion in seconds. Finn's legs sagged, buckled and he pulled Puck down on top of him on the floor of the janitor's closet, knocking over a box of paper towel.

They lay on the floor, panting, spent, covered with one another's come, just holding on. "God, I really want to do that," Finn said.

"Yeah," said Puck, his voice husky with emotion. "But Kurt should be there."

"Yeah," said Finn. "We – uh, Kurt and I – we never did that."

"I've never done it either," said Puck. He propped himself up on one elbow next to Finn's chest, and wiped his sticky hand off on a strip of paper towel from the fallen box.

"Why not? I thought you'd pretty much done everything." Finn felt an unreasonable stab of jealousy for all of Puck's former sex partners. "Didn't Alex –"

"No, he said I should wait," said Puck.

"For what?"

Puck turned bright red and didn't say anything. "What?" said Finn again. "Dude, whatever it is, you can –"

"He said I should wait for my Daddy to fuck me," said Puck, and he choked on the words.

"Um." Finn blinked. "He didn't mean your actual father, did he?"

"No, and dude, don't go there," said Puck, putting a hand over his face. "No, I think it means, like, my Dominant. My Top. Whatever. I don't know the right words."

"Am I – am I your Daddy?" Finn managed to ask, without dying of embarrassment.

"I don't know," said Puck, sitting up. "It's a little gay. But then, all of this is a little gay."

"I think a lot gay," said Finn, and laughed nervously. "I think I'm like, all gay."

"You think?" Puck looked at him appraisingly. "I don't know, man, you've had some pretty hot times with Quinn and other girls, right?"

"Not like things are with you, or Kurt," said Finn. "Not even close."

"I still like girls," said Puck. "I think I was in love with Nicole, and Daph. It's hard to know, now, though. I was pretty lonely. And really – it was nothing like this. Nothing like it is with you guys. This feels… I don't know. Like my missing piece."

"I know," said Finn, and he felt a rush of relief and love at Puck's words.

"You're fucking awesome," said Puck, "but you know, I need Kurt, too. He's part of this. I… I miss him. He belongs here, with us. _With _us."

"Maybe you should tell him that," said Finn. He sat up and took some paper towel to clean up the worst of the mess and tucked himself back into his jeans. "He sounds like he could use some help figuring things out."

"Maybe _you_ should, dude." Puck said. He hesitated. "That's okay, though, right? It's okay that I need Kurt, like I need you?"

"Of course," said Finn, and for a minute he was confused by the question. Then he thought about how he'd been so jealous, thinking about Puck with other people. "I don't feel jealous when you're with Kurt," he said. Then he realized just a few minutes before, he thought he might have, and he wondered.

"I don't feel jealous either," said Puck, "but I know that sometimes it can get confusing. Like, you see what someone else has, and even though you are happy for them, you want it, too." He zipped up his pants and sat back down on the floor, his leg companionably brushing against Finn's. "I wonder if that's how Kurt feels when he sees us, when you're, you know, in charge."

"Do you think he wants me to be… in charge… of him?" Finn said. He considered how that would be with Kurt, with whom things had always been so egalitarian, so much about their mutual pleasure and not about power or control.

"I think you should try it and see what he thinks," said Puck. "You shouldn't ask him. Just do it. If he hates it, he'll let you know, but if he needs it, you'll both find out."

"Like we did," said Finn. "Of course. You're totally right."

"Of course I am," said Puck, in the same tone, and Finn punched him on the arm. Then he tackled him, held him down, and kissed him soundly, passionately, completely.


	11. Chapter 11

Finn was restless on the way to Rachel's house. He kept thinking about Rachel's outfit that day, and how her hair and skin had looked, and wondered how it might feel to touch them.

_So what if she's a girl? _he said to himself, uneasily. _You used to like girls. Maybe you still do. What's the big deal? She's pretty, right? And she has beautiful… eyes. Yeah. _

He thought about Puck's comment that he might still like girls, might even still be in love with two of them. What did that mean for them? Was he still planning to visit them? Be with them? What about Alex? Puck had said he'd like for them to meet someday. He wondered what Alex would think of him. Would he think he was good enough for Puck?

He felt a tightening in his chest at the thought of Alex, but he didn't feel the same sensation when he considered Daphne, or Nicole. _Is that me being sexist? _he wondered, thinking his mom would probably think so. To think of it, he'd never really been bothered by Puck's involvement with girls. Even those girls that he, himself, had been interested in. _What did that mean?_ he wondered. _Was it something about the girls, or about himself?_

He knew Kurt had never really liked girls. Kurt had told him about the time he'd made out with Brittany, when he was trying to be what he thought his dad wanted. When Finn thought about Kurt and Brittany together, he was just baffled. Then he tried imagining Kurt with another guy... say, Mike Chang. He considered Mike putting his arm around Kurt, holding him close, putting a kiss on his – He growled. _No, I don't like that._ _Huh._ Not to say it wasn't a little hot, thinking of Mike Chang… He shook his head again.

He thought, finally, about what Kurt had said about needing time to think, and Puck's idea that he should just _do it_, not to ask Kurt what he would like. _ Maybe it would piss him off – or maybe not. _He could imagine it both ways.

He sighed. This was way more thinking about relationships than he'd ever done before. It made his head hurt.

A short, balding man met him at the door. "Hi there," he said, smiling. "You must be Finn. Rachel's told us so much about you."

"Um, hi," he said, caught off guard. He held out a hand. "Yeah, I'm Finn. Nice to meet you, Mr. Berry."

"Can I get you anything, something to drink?" He indicated the kitchen, but Finn shook his head.

"No, thanks. I'm really here to practice for Glee."

Rachel's dad nodded and indicated the staircase. "Rachel's upstairs. You can go right up. Her room is the first door on the right."

Finn thought Rachel's dad must either be super trusting, or not have much experience with teenage boys coming to visit, or else he wouldn't be letting him walk up there by himself. He passed galleries of Rachel at different ages and stages: Rachel in tap, Rachel in gymnastics, a preteen Rachel in what looked like debate club (Finn guessed Rachel had been good at that), Rachel building a huge snow sculpture. There were more pictures of Rachel on that one stretch of wall than there were of Finn in his entire house. He thought maybe now he had a better idea of why she was… well, Rachel.

He knocked on the first door on the right. "Rachel?"

"Come in, Finn," she called. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. The room was a strange blend of teenage kitsch and little girl memorabilia, with a little Broadway ambition thrown in for good measure. He saw an entire wall of CD cases of musicals, organized in what looked like alphabetical order by title. There was a neatly ordered collection of plush teddy bears on a long shelf near the ceiling, and an entire glass cabinet filled with hundreds of Pez dispensers.

"I'll be right out," he heard from the other room. "Can you think of a song you'd like to start with? How about that one from Grease that we sang in your first week in Glee?"

"Uh, sure," he said. "Only I was mostly nervous that day."

She suddenly appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, and she was dressed in a skin-tight black catsuit. Her hair was done up curly and big, and her eyes and lips were outlined in makeup to make them big and obvious, like a caricature. She looked at him through lashes coated with mascara, and said, "Tell me about it… stud."

He gulped back a nervous laugh. She darted forward and turned on the accompaniment music, and he began singing, but after just a few lines, he pressed stop on the player. "Wait - stop." She looked at him expectantly. He sighed and sat with her on the bed.

"I need to be honest with you, Rachel… you look like... a sad clown hooker." Immediately he wished he'd said it differently. Her face looked like she'd just ripped the head off her favorite teddy bear. He tried again. "This look – it just isn't you. Maybe when I first saw it, I was caught off guard, because you looked all adult and stuff, but that's not you." He grinned. "I actually like the way you dress."

She looked crestfallen. "I thought… this… is what you liked."

"No, not at all." He cocked his head at her. "What made you think that?"

"Well, I had this talk with Kurt, and he said…"

_Kurt. _ He narrowed his eyes. _ What are you doing? What game is this?_

She hung her head, laughing without humor. "I feel like an idiot."

He shook his head in wonder. "No, it's my fault," he said, and he meant it. _Kurt _is_ my responsibility. He really is, whether he knows it or not. We're already doing this, and I didn't even realize it – but I do now._

He looked around her room, smiling. "I really like you, Rachel." She looked surprised, and pleased. He put a hand on her arm, and was relieved to discover he wasn't affected by her soft skin.

"I gotta go," he said, and she nodded, backing into the bathroom, presumably to remove her clown hooker makeup. Finn walked back downstairs, hoping to avoid a confrontation with the Misters Berry, and ducked out the door.

"Kurt," he said, low, frustrated. It was a promise of things to come. He didn't know for sure that Kurt was going to like it… but he was _definitely _going to get it.

* * *

><p>"I told you we should have been the cowboys," Quinn hissed through gritted teeth. Puck felt her struggle with the jump rope that tied their chairs together. He tugged halfheartedly.<p>

"Come on, they're just kids. Didn't you play like this when you were a kid?"

"No! They're going to break the table – get away from there! – and Terri's going to be mad and she's not… she won't…" She made a loud noise of frustration. "Help me get this off!"

"Sure, just a minute."

"Puck… who are you texting?" Quinn's voice sounded deadly.

"Uh, Mike Chang," he said.

_1 text – Mike X. Chang_

_9:29pm: this is noah, how's it going?_

He hesitated a moment before typing the word _Noah. _He hadn't written that name on anything other than standardized tests and checks in five years. But that was the name Kurt chose to call him… and he liked it, from him. He shuffled his feet, trying to twist out of the jump rope. His phone buzzed.

_1 text – Santana X. Lopez_

_9:30pm: Noah, this is really weird. _

He grinned. _I know,_ he replied. _Would you believe I'm tied up right now?_

_What?_ Kurt sent.

_Yeah, it's pretty hot. Me and Quinn, back to back._

_I really did not need to hear that._

Puck relented. _We're playing Cowboys and Indians with the triplets, Hummel. What were *you* thinking of?_

There was a pause. _You got me. I just have a dirty mind when it comes to you._

He stifled a cackle. _You ain't the only one._

_Oh, yeah? Tell me what you're wearing. _Puck choked and looked carefully at the message on his phone, but it still read the same.

"Puck!" Quinn was more frantic now. "Come on, boys, get off the refrigerator – I'm sure you're not – hey!"

He sighed. _Hold that thought._ He stuck his phone into the front pocket of his jeans and quickly wiggled out of the rope. "Watch out, the Indians have escaped!" he shouted, and whooped through the living room, sweeping a torrent of screaming, laughing redheaded boys before him. He grabbed the nearest one around the middle and tossed him onto the sofa.

"You know what Indians do when they catch their enemies, don't you?" he said in a low voice. The boy looked at him with wide eyes and swallowed, then shook his head.

"They _tickle them," _he cried triumphantly, and proceeded to destroy his enemy's feet through their socks. The boy screeched and kicked, crawling under the coffee table. Puck crawled right under after him.

"Puck, it's their bedtime," said Quinn, laughing despite herself. "Can we make things a _little_ more calm?"

Puck bumped his head on the table. "Ow. Fuck."

"He said the F word," said one of the boys in an awed voice. He looked at Puck with respect. "Our mom would put us in time out for that."

Puck rubbed the back of his head, squirming out from under the table. "Well," he said. "I guess I better go in time out, huh?"

"Yeah!" the boys shouted. They grabbed him by the hands and towed him to their room. Puck looked at Quinn as they led him past, grinning. She grinned back and shook her head, hands on her hips.

"You have to sit here," pointed a triplet. Puck sat cross-legged on top of a toybox with a green cushion on it. He was eye level with the boys now. They clustered around him with solemn faces.

"Now what do I have to do?" he asked.

"Nothing," they whispered. "You just have to sit and be good."

"I can do that," he promised. He put his hands in his lap and put on an angelic face. They snorted giggles at him, and he tried not to smile.

"Well, while I'm in time out, I guess you should take your bath," he said. They groaned.

"Why do we have to do that?" one whined. "Our mom never gets us to take a bath."

"Well, 'cause if you take your bath, I can tell you what happens next to the cowboys when they're captured by the fierce, bloodthirsty Indians." He nodded importantly. "But it's the kind of story you have to be clean to hear, because it's pretty awful. If you don't take a bath first, you might die from all the filth."

"No way?" one said, skeptical, but impressed.

"Yeah," he said. "I'd feel a lot better if you were clean first."

"Okay, Puck," they said. "C'mon, let's wash really fast!"

"Don't forget to brush your teeth," he called after them as they raced into the bathroom, pushing past Quinn on the way. She looked at him in amazement.

"I'm in time-out," he said.

"You're incredible," she said, and he blushed.

"It's not so different from when Sarah was that age," he said. "I pretty much did this every night."

She shook her head, smiling her pretty smile at him, and again he was reminded of Daphne. "I'll call you in if they get out of hand," she said, and disappeared.

He pulled out his phone. _Where were we? _he sent to "Mike." _Want me to take off this tight t-shirt?_

_Why don't you let me do that for you,_ he saw from "Santana." He could picture Kurt's hands coming up under the hem of his shirt, stroking up his abs, to his chest. He shivered, and his cock twitched.

_You might find a nipple ring under there._

_Well, let me give it a tug, then,_ Kurt sent, and Puck put a hand on his own chest, feeling a pulse run from his left nipple to the space below his navel. He could feel Kurt's soft, strong hands on him, and he let out a slow breath.

_Your hands feel so hot, _he replied. _I wanna touch you._

_Yeah, anywhere you want – touch me all over._

He pictured kneeling in front of him, hands on his waist. _I'm taking off your jeans._

_I'm not wearing underwear._

Kurt, commando? His cock throbbed and he palmed himself through his jeans, groaning. _Fuck. I'll never look at your tight ass at school the same way again. _

_You'll never know when it might happen – but I'll be thinking of you when I do it._

Puck groaned again. "Puck? You okay?" Quinn called, and he looked up quickly, but she was still in the bathroom.

"Time out's going okay," he said. "I think I need a little more time though."

"One down, two to go," she said, and he sighed.

_You get me so hot,_ he sent. _ I love looking at you walk down the hall._

_Really?_ That one surprised word gave Puck a sore feeling in his heart.

_Uh, yeah, dude. You're fucking gorgeous._

There was no response, and Puck started to worry. _Too much? _he sent.

_No. Just can't believe it._

"Two down," called Quinn.

_Why not? You walk like you own the school._

_Yeah, but I get thrown in dumpsters and slammed into lockers. not so good for my self-esteem._

Puck rubbed at his eyes and chewed on his lip. _I really suck, don't I._

_Sometimes,_ said Kurt. _Not so much anymore._

_Now I have you to remind me how to be good._

_Don't you mean you have Finn?_ Kurt asked.

_No. I mean I have you._ He smiled to himself. _I need you, as much as I need him._

"Mike say something funny?" Quinn said from the door, looking at him. He looked up, trying not to act guilty.

"Yeah, he's a trip," he croaked, clearing his throat. "They all done?"

"Yeah." She bit her lip, considering him. "Want to sing a song with me?"

"Sure!" he said, smiling. "Let me get my guitar."

"Hey, boys," she called, "want to see a real live music video?"

_You mean that?_ said Kurt.

_Dude, _he sent. _I fucking love you. What do you think?_

He didn't get a response after that, though he left his phone within easy reach, even when he and Quinn sang "Papa Don't Preach" on the couch for the boys. Quinn was more uninhibited than he'd seen her in a long time, dancing around, smiling a real smile at him. "And I made up my mind / I'm keeping my baby," she sang, and he felt a thrill of possibility. He imagined the little blonde girl on the couch next to the triplets.

"Sing it again," said one when they were done.

"I think it's time to reveal what happened when the Indians captured the fearless cowboys," he said, shepherding them off the couch and toward their parents' bed. "If you think you can handle it."

"Yeah!" they all shouted, piling into the big bed together. He knelt at the foot and set the stage: the blind canyon, the endless galloping Indian ponies, each with their fierce brave bearing a vicious tomahawk, the stalwart cowboys on their desperately tired horses. The boys didn't say one word for thirty-six minutes, after which they snuggled contentedly under the covers and closed their eyes.

Later, as they were bidding goodnight to a shocked Terri and her sister, Quinn leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You were awesome tonight," she whispered. "We proved something – this parenting thing, we can do this."

Puck felt another thrill, this time of unease. _Not – with Quinn,_ he thought. _No. She couldn't be the mommy in the dream, could she? _He looked at her uncertainly as she walked out. _I don't want to do this with her. Not with her. What should I do now?_

He pulled his phone out and looked at the last text from Kurt: _You mean that?_

_Kurt, _he texted, climbing into his truck, _can I come over? I need to talk to you._

_I'm still at Mercedes' house,_ Kurt said. _I can come over for a little while on my way home._

He sighed in relief. Kurt would know what to do.


	12. Chapter 12

(Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I've been a little busy with end of semester! Looking forward to a summer of writing every day... Usual warnings apply, for D/s and mentions of abuse.)

* * *

><p>After she'd noticed his sober expression that afternoon, Mercedes had convinced Kurt to come to her house and hang out with her and Tina that night. But Kurt hadn't been able to focus on the girls, and Puck's frequent texts just drew him further into his own head until he stopped talking to them altogether. His distraction caused Mercedes to work extra hard to distract Tina from noticing, and he could tell she was getting more and more annoyed with him. Finally she cornered him in the bathroom.<p>

"Look, Kurt, whatever's going on between you and _that boy_ is your business," she said, pointing a finger in the supposed direction of _that boy,_ who seemed to be located by the towel rod. "But this is not the Kurt Hummel I know and love. You're moody. You're distant. And you totally missed all the subtly nasty and hilarious things I said about Rachel in the last hour." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Can you get this fixed on your own, or do I need to stage an intervention?"

"I don't know," he moaned, putting his palms into his eyes and pressing. "I'm sorry. It's really confusing right now. I don't know what I want with Finn."

She reached up and took his hand. "You seemed to have plenty to say to him in those text messages."

"Uh, no, that was… Noah." He blushed, remembering the content. Somehow the shyness he felt around Finn just melted away around Puck, leaving this scandalous, sex-filled creature he scarcely recognized. _I always thought I wanted romance,_ he said. _Maybe I really wanted… something else. _

"I'm so _not_ ready to hear about that," said Mercedes, giving a little shudder. "Puckerman… honestly, Kurt. Don't you think he's, I don't know, a little skanky? He's had, like, a _lot_ of different girls. And, apparently, guys." She peered at him from under an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're being safe?"

"_Yes,_ we're being safe." He didn't answer the other dig. It was all too true, and there was no answer that would satisfy Mercedes without revealing too many personal details about what they had done together. Kurt's stomach fluttered as the image of Noah crossed his mind, bent over his knee, his bare ass in the air. _She _really _wouldn't get that. I'm not even sure I do._

She watched his face for a minute, concerned. Then she sighed. "Kurt," she said, and her voice was contrite. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me. You don't have to justify your… your love for anyone." Her lips twitched on the word _love,_ but she pressed on. "You need a friend. I want to be there for you, no matter how bizarre I find the situation."

He breathed a deep, rolling sigh. "It's pretty bizarre," he admitted. "I'd forgotten how much work it takes to be in the closet, Mercedes. Finn, and… and Noah – it's so stressful on them. I can't –"

"Kurt? Mercedes?" said Tina, popping her head into the bathroom. She looked around, confused. "Are you okay?"

"I, uh, left my coat in here," said Kurt vaguely. "I need to head home." Mercedes shot him a sympathetic look, but he brushed it off, hoisting his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"I'll talk to you later," she said, hugging him. Tina gave him a half wave. He knew she'd grill Mercedes later about what was really up, but he trusted Mercedes to keep his secrets… for now. She was a good friend, but had a hard time resisting the really juicy gossip. Luckily for him, this seemed to be too unusual even for her to talk about.

Kurt drove in a distracted half-daze to Puck's house. He couldn't get one image out of his head, the one in which Finn sat with Puck – with _Noah_ – on his lap, holding him, telling him he belonged to him. It wasn't _quite_ paternal, and not _quite _sexual, and stirred up very confusing feelings inside him when he thought about what they were doing. He felt jealous, but he wasn't exactly sure of what, or of whom. He felt left out, but he wasn't exactly clear what his role should be in this situation. And he definitely felt uncomfortable at the idea that someone, a grown person, or nearly grown, could… _own_ another person. It made him feel tight inside, like he didn't quite fit into his own skin.

Then he thought about the embrace they'd given him that afternoon, the gentle kisses and encouraging words, and he felt a wave of longing. That had felt so good, so right, and he wished he hadn't pushed them away.

He parked in front of Puck's house and walked up to the door , but before he could ring the bell, the door opened suddenly and Sarah was there, eyes huge, with a finger over her lips, pulling him through the door and into the dim kitchen.

"They're fighting," she whispered, tugging on his arm. He followed her down the dark hallway, into her room. He could hear Puck's voice raised in anger, saying, "He's been my best friend since I was eight, Ma!"

"Oh, no, Noah Aaron Puckerman, the last time I turned around, _friends_ didn't _do_ the things you're telling me about," said a shrill, fierce voice, and Kurt felt a thread of fear wind its way down his spine.

"She's calling him by all three names," Sarah said, low, but not scared, and he relaxed a fraction at the look on her face. "That's better than what she was calling him earlier."

"He – he told her about Finn?" he said, swallowing the lump that had risen in his throat.

"And about you," she said. He heard something large and heavy fall to the floor, or possibly it had been thrown, he couldn't tell. The yelling went on, indistinct. He fought an urge to listen at the door.

"Sarah," he said, and she looked at him. He hesitated. "Is he… going to get hurt?"

"No," she said, and she was so matter-of-fact that he believed her. "Ma gets loud and mean, but she hasn't ever hit us."

"I want – can I do anything to help him?" He flinched at another heavy sound, this one definitely from something hitting the wall. "God. I'm not used to this."

She surprised him by taking his hand in her thin one and pulling him over to her bed. They clambered up and sat, against the wall with their legs sticking out, like they were on the couch. The room was dim, but he could see the same sparse décor as Puck had had in his room: bare dresser, desk, plain colors. A Lady Gaga poster hung on the wall, next to a Miyazaki movie poster.

He picked up a worn teddy bear from the bed, looked at Sarah, who nodded, and hugged it to his chest.

"Ma yells, but then she calms down and apologizes. She's not there yet. Noah's doing okay." A barrage of curses filtered through the wall and made Kurt catch his breath, but Sarah seemed unperturbed. "It'll be over soon. He's going to need you afterwards."

"God," he said again, and sighed shakily. "I rather think it's going to be the other way around."

"Uh, _no,_" she said, and her voice was pure scorn. "It's pretty clear who's in charge here, and it's definitely not my brother."

Kurt felt his face grow hot. "Are you sure we should be talking about -?"

"Look, nobody knows Noah like me, all right?" she said. "We're pretty much either of us ever had. I know he's a total jerk to most people. I know, for the first time, like, _ever,_ he's not being a jerk. And I see how he is around you."

"How is he around me?" whispered Kurt, guiltily.

"Like you're two magnets," she said. "He can't think about or look at anything but you." She picked a piece of skin off one cuticle, avoiding his eyes. "And I saw how he was in the kitchen, the other day. When you were kissing."

Kurt's blush spread to his neck and shoulders. He felt sweat bead on his forehead and he wiped it, heedlessly, with the cuff of his Marc Jacobs sateen twill button-down. "How was that?"

She bit the cuticle. "He would have done anything you said."

The thrill that flew through his body was entirely inappropriate, he thought, with him being in this close proximity to Noah's _little sister_, and he resisted asking any more questions. They sat on the bed in silence, her chewing her cuticles to bits, him listening for any more yelling.

"They seem to have stopped," said Kurt.

"He'll come to me when they're done," she said. It wasn't a question. She knew it. He looked at her appraisingly.

"How old are you?"

"Older than you," she shot out. "Some things change you."

He looked at the dark circles under her eyes, the solemn expression, the slumped shoulders, and he knew it was true, too. He reached for her hand, without really thinking about it, and she took it. She held onto it like a parched person might beg for a glass of water.

"Eleven next week," she added, and he squeezed her hand.

They sat with the lights off, feet dangling, listening to the silence, holding hands, and it didn't feel weird, not even a little. "I don't have a sister," he said.

"Want one?" she said.

He smiled. "Sure."

"I'll steal your snacks," she warned.

"It's better that way," he assured her. "You're too young to need to watch your weight. I have to be careful of my figure."

"Good luck with that around here," she said. "Noah will keep you full and happy."

A warm feeling burned in his stomach. _Full and happy._ Then he thought of Finn, holding Noah, and the thought curdled like sour milk.

Sarah's door opened and Puck slipped in, saying, "Holy fuck, Sarah, how many times does she need to bring up grandchildren, honestly? I mean, shit, I'm –" and stopped short as he saw Kurt. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and he just closed it again and stood there.

"You told her," Kurt said softly. He realized he was gripping Sarah's hand too tightly and he let it go.

"Yeah," Puck said, and the word was one long breath. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, like he was trying to hold something in. He laughed, one short sound. "She blamed Glee, can you believe it? Said we were all a bunch of –" He stopped, looked at Kurt, his lips tight. Kurt realized he was furious.

"It's okay, Noah," he said, but Puck shook his head, back and forth, like he couldn't stop.

"It's _not_ fucking okay, Kurt," he said. "She can't talk about you – about us – like that. We're _awesome,_ we're – this is – "

"Shh, okay, you're right, it's just fine," he soothed, moving without thinking to stand before him, and Puck opened his arms and grabbed on tight to Kurt, breathing heavily. He went on, his mouth buried in Kurt's neck.

"It's the best thing ever, and it just pisses me off that she can't see it." He pulled back to look Kurt in the face. Puck's eyes looked very green in the dim light of the room, and Kurt couldn't look away.

"Kurt, you have to know – you _have_ to know – this is not just about you and me. You and Finn – you have something really important here. He misses you. I miss you, too. We really need you. It's not the same without you."

"I – I miss you too, Noah," Kurt said, choking on the words. "It's just not that simple."

"No, dammit, it really _is_," Puck said, grabbing Kurt's shoulders and giving him a little shake. "You belong with us."

"With you?" Kurt said. _But not _to_ you, _he thought.

"Yeah!" Puck said. His voice was tight with frustration and suppressed anger. Kurt stroked his hair, trying to bring him down, but he was too wound up.

Sarah cleared her throat, and it seemed that both Kurt and Puck remembered she was there at the same moment. They exchanged a look, and let go of one another, backing off.

"I think you can go talk to Ma now," Sarah said. "I bet she's ready to apologize."

"I don't know," said Puck, but he moved toward the door. "There were more flying missiles than usual."

Kurt uncertainly followed him down the hall and back to the family room, trying not to chew a hole in his lip. He saw a woman with dark hair and a blotchy, tense face sitting in a pile of tissues. He hung back while Puck sat beside her on the brown couch.

"Noah," she said, wiping her eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"Ma, this is Kurt," Puck said quickly. "He's the other part."

"The… other part, huh?" she said, and she held out a hand to touch Kurt, though she did not quite shake his hand. "Come over here, Kurt."

He walked over, self-conscious, suddenly, for the first time in ages, of his style and attitude, of how much he looked different from Puck, who was all muscles and sculpted planes. He sank down next to Puck on the couch, trying to be confident without looking arrogant. "Good evening, Mrs. Puckerman," he offered.

She looked at him, then past him. "How does this happen, Noah? How do you go from dating someone like Rachel – to…" She gestured at Kurt, and he felt his face go red.

"Ma, be civil," Puck ground out through gritted teeth.

She coughed. "Noah tells me he's cooking dinner for you and… Finn, tomorrow night." She said the word _Finn_ in a strangled voice, but she got it out.

"That's right," he said. "My father will be there, and Finn's mother. We'd… we'd really like it if you would join us as well."

"I think you might be better off not having me there," she said, and then she smiled, and it was Noah's smile, and Kurt was smiling back despite himself. "But I suppose I'd better go, since I'm invited."

Kurt took a breath. "Mrs. Puckerman, I want you to know I really… care for Noah." He glanced at Puck, who was staring at Kurt. "He's good at pretending to be… not a nice person. But I know the truth, how good and generous and gentle he is. I'm guessing you know these things about him because you're his mother." He took another breath, trying to keep going, not to lose momentum. "But I had to learn it, just this week. And now – I just feel so lucky to know him. To know him, for real."

"Kurt," she said, and her voice held more warmth. "It's good to hear anyone saying they understand my Noah. I know he's a good boy, but sometimes it's not obvious."

"Kurt helps me be better," Puck said softly. He did not look at Kurt, but Kurt felt the weight of Puck's gaze in his mother' eyes.

"Well," she said. "That definitely counts for something, even from a – from you."

"Ma," Puck said, his voice escalating.

"Noah, you're going to have to give your old lady a break," she scolded. "It's not easy, this business, with you and Kurt and… Finn." She shook her head. "I don't understand that. You've known him all your life, and suddenly things are different?"

"The list, Ma," Puck said suddenly. She looked at him, questioning. "Remember you had me write the list of all the things I wanted from a girl? That was Finn, Ma. Everything on the list. That's when I realized. It didn't matter he wasn't a girl."

"That – hmmm," she said, frowning at Kurt. "And you? You're just, _okay, _with Noah and Finn, being together. Like _that_." She looked like she was trying not to let her lip curl.

"They love each other," Kurt said, not answering the question. Puck looked at him sharply, but his mother was already responding.

"Love only takes you so far. You have to be willing to work for a good relationship." She crossed her arms and tears welled up. "Noah, what about children?"

"I've got that covered, Ma," Puck said, and it was Kurt's turn to stare at Puck. _He couldn't be talking about…?_

"But how can they be raised in a family like… like _this?"_ She wrung her hands and turned a look of such reproach onto Puck that Kurt felt like standing in the way of it, just to shield him from it. It was a moment of insight: _This is why he needs us to take him apart and put him back together. _This_ is why he needs that kind of intense support, from Finn. From me. Because of the way his parents have treated him. _He felt such sudden anger that he rose to his feet.

"If we choose to raise children in a relationship like _this,_ they'll have three times as many parents as any of us had," said Kurt. "I can't really see how that could be a bad thing."

"But children need a mother," she said. Kurt felt himself swell up with indignation, but he kept his voice as calm as he could manage. He looked her straight in the face.

"My mother died eight years ago," he said. "My father has provided more than enough parenting for me. I think I turned out just fine. I'm proud of who I am. Noah and Finn are two of the best people I know. I don't think you can judge us just because of who we love."

Kurt reached out and took Puck's hand. Puck didn't say anything, but his eyes spoke volumes. Together, they walked down the hall into the dim kitchen, and Puck's mother didn't follow them.

As soon as they were out of sight, Kurt grabbed Puck and rolled him into as fierce an embrace as he could muster, wrapping his arms and tongue around Puck's and leaving him breathless. "Fucking incredible," Puck whispered into his ear, when he could speak again.

"Nobody treats my Noah that way," Kurt growled, holding him tight. "You're perfect the way you are."

Puck stopped breathing for a moment and got very still. "What is it?" said Kurt.

"_Yours…?"_ Puck's voice was small and uncertain.

"Yes," Kurt said, with enough certainty for both of them. "Yes, mine. _Mine." _And he kissed him again, claiming his mouth.

"I understand now," he continued, after a long moment in which the only sounds were grunts and moans and soft wet points of connection. "I thought when Finn said he owned you that it was about possession, or control. But it's not." He stroked Puck's head.

"What's it about, then?" Puck said, dazed.

"Love," Kurt said. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect you. With my life, Noah. You're my responsibility. That's just the way it is."

"God," Puck said, and hitched a small sob, pressing his face into Kurt's shoulder.

"I hope that's what you want, because I'm afraid you don't get any say in it," Kurt added, and Puck just nodded his head helplessly and held on.

"Come on," said Kurt. "You're coming to my house tonight."

Puck hung back, reluctantly resisting. "I – I can't," he said apologetically. "It's Sarah. I can't leave her here by herself, not with my mom awake and… this way. Sarah – she'll get the worst of it."

Kurt glared down the hallway, as though he could shine a damning spotlight on Puck's mother with the force of his emotion. "This isn't over between your mother and me," he said. "I'm not going to let it alone, do you understand? She can't treat you that way."

"It's just the way things are," Puck said, but Kurt shook his head emphatically and brushed the hair from his face.

"You deserve so much more. You, and Sarah. I can't let it alone," he said again. "There's nothing wrong with you, and nothing wrong with _us. _I won't let her convince you otherwise."

"Kurt…" Puck sighed, putting his arms around Kurt's waist. "Remember when you said I couldn't change things for you all at once, at school? It's like that, here. There's too much history, too much shit for me to dig out in one day. It's going to take time."

"Yes," Kurt said, and kissed him once more. "But we're going to do it. We're going to make it happen. I'm going to take care of it."

"Yes," Puck said, and he took a deep breath, gazing at Kurt with a look of disbelief and awe. "I think you are."

It wasn't until later, as Kurt was driving away, that he realized he'd forgotten to ask Puck what it was that he'd needed to talk with him about. He figured that nothing could be as important as what they'd just shared – it could wait until dinner, the next day.


	13. Chapter 13

(Author's note: Yikes, sorry for the length. They had a lot to, um, say. Warning: rimming, and no, Finn has no idea what that is. Coming up in next chapters: yet more Kurt angst, then the fateful Hudson-Huckerman dinner party!)

* * *

><p>Finn was almost asleep when he heard the crashing sound outside by the garage. He stumbled to the window and looked out to see Puck clambering up on top of the shed dormer just below his room.<p>

"What the hell, Puck?" Finn said, wrestling with the old window, shoving the sash up as high as it would go, trying not to knock any more of the nasty lead-based paint off. "Why didn't you come to the door? I could have let you in."

"Kind of defeats the purpose of sneaking out, Hudson," said Puck, flashing him a dangerous look. He swung a leg over the sill and sat there, looking pleased with himself.

Finn sighed. _Ah. This Puck. _He wasn't at all sure he was ready to deal with him tonight, but he felt a stab of want in the pit of his belly when he saw Puck's look turned on him. He reached out a hand and helped Puck in the rest of the way into his room. Puck's foot caught on the sill, and he stumbled a little and fell heavily against Finn's body.

"Sorry," said Puck, breathing the word onto Finn's mouth, his lips brushing against Finn's chin, and Finn breathed it in, a little gasp, feeling Puck's breath go into his lungs.

"Dude, have you been drinking?" he said, smelling the answer. Puck kissed him, wet, dirty, and Finn couldn't help but respond. Puck's mouth tasted like gin and orange juice.

"Just a little," Puck said, running his tongue along Finn's jaw. Finn shivered.

"Since when do you drink by yourself?" Finn asked.

"Fuck, man, give it a rest, you sound like my - " Puck's voice caught and ground to a halt before he could finish the sentence, and he sat down on Finn's bed all of a sudden.

"I told Ma about you," he said. "And Kurt."

"Oh," said Finn. "Um, how'd it go?" Which was, he thought, the absolute lamest thing he could have possibly said, and he tried to make it up by sitting down next to Puck and holding his hand, twining their fingers together. Then he thought maybe _that_ was the lamest thing ever, but Puck didn't seem to mind, or even really notice.

"Bad," Puck said. He put his free hand down on his jean-clad thigh and rubbed it, like there was an itch. "She said some pretty mean things to Kurt."

"Wait, what? Kurt was there?" Finn felt a momentary spasm in his gut at the thought of Puck wanting _Kurt_ there and not him - especially after Kurt had said he needed a break from them that evening - but he squeezed Puck's fingers anyway.

"I had a question for him about something else, so he was already coming over, and he just walked into it." Puck's hand kept rubbing, rubbing his leg, and Finn suppressed an urge to grab it to shut it up. "She said... she's coming to dinner."

Finn took a deep breath. "Well, that's good, right?"

"I guess, yeah," Puck shrugged. Then he sighed and leaned his head into his hand, twisting the hand to tug at his short hair. "No. It's going to pretty much suck."

"Puck -"

"No, look, your mom is all kinds of awesome, okay? And Kurt's dad, I mean, don't get me started. But Ma - she's not like them. She's... she's like me." He moved his hand from his head to his neck, restlessly digging welts into his skin with his nails. "She's going to find the easiest target and destroy it." He paused and looked at Finn, his eyes gleaming momentarily. "She thought Kurt might be it, but he totally stood up to her."

"Yeah?" Finn grinned, imagining Kurt speaking against Puck's abrasive, unpredictable mother. He remembered Kurt talking to his own mother like they were peers, cool and comfortable, and he could see it. "Dude. I don't know. Maybe it'll be fine. Your mom's always been nice to me - she likes me, right?"

"That was before she knew you were trying to get into my pants," Puck didn't grin back, but he squeezed Finn's fingers. "I don't think she really hates f- gay people. It's more than that. She... she has this thing about me giving her grandchildren. I don't know, it's a Jewish requirement or something. I think if I can take care of that part, everything else will be okay." He swallowed once, then again. "Quinn - she thinks we should keep it."

"Keep it." Finn said the words again, tasting them in his mouth, and they felt foreign, like they had no meaning to him. "Like - the baby? Quinn's baby?"

"And _my_ baby," Puck said, with such vehemence that Finn let go of his hand. "She wants to raise it together, with me. She thinks we should be parents."

Finn took that in, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach. It was the same feeling he got when he watched Puck doing something he knew was a bad idea, but he couldn't think of any reason to tell him not to. "Puck, is that what you want?"

Puck looked intently at the floor. "Not - no. I don't want to do it - with Quinn."

Finn heard him, and at first he was relieved, but then the meaning of his words hit him, and he blurted out, "No, no way!"

Puck didn't look at him. He ground his teeth together. "I know how you feel about it."

"Puck, we're fucking _sixteen,"_ said Finn, and he winced to hear the words coming out of his mouth. _Why do I have to be the sensible one? _he whined to himself, but out loud he said, "We have high school, and football, and Glee. Not to mention, like, _everything else_ in our lives? You really want to give all that up to be _parents?_"

"Why not? You don't understand, Finn." Puck spoke too loudly, and Finn put a restraining hand on him, trying to get him to quiet down, looking meaningfully at the door. Puck huffed, rolling his eyes, but he brought it down a few notches. "You're going to finish senior year and get out of Loserville, go to college, maybe get a scholarship. What in hell do I have to look forward to? Some dead-end job, maybe an open mic gig every now and then, and that's it. Magic 8 Ball says, outlook not so good."

Puck kicked the edge of the rug with his heel. "But... this baby. She's real, you know? She's not just a maybe. She's really going to be born. I feel like I know her. Like she's waiting for me, wanting to meet me." He touched Finn on the leg. "Don't you understand what I mean? You loved her, too."

"I - I thought I did," Finn said. His head was spinning. "I was never going to really be her father, though, I never thought - I never wanted -"

"Never? Really?" Puck turned the overwhelming force of his dark eyes on Finn, and he had to look away. "You did. You thought about it, just for a minute, what it would be like to be that baby's father. Finn - you still could. You _could_ be."

"Puck, _no. _We couldn't." He shook his head, and blew out an exasperated breath. "Nobody in their right mind would let a bunch of teenage guys raise a baby. They'd come and take it away. We're minors, dude. We don't get to have that kind of responsibility. We shouldn't have it."

"We shouldn't?" Puck crossed his arms and his mouth twisted. "What about what you're saying you want with me? That kind of responsibility? You think we shouldn't have that either?"

"What? No! We -"

"You think we're too fucking young to feel this? What I feel for you?" Puck's voice escalated again. "It's - it's huge, man, it's the biggest thing in the world. Am I making it up? Are you saying I'm going to _outgrow _it, that it's a fucking _phase?"_

"No! It's - it's different with us. You're not a kid!"

"It's no different," he said, and now he was yelling. Finn put an arm around him, around his back, and clapped another hand over his mouth, pulling him close, right into his chest. Puck struggled, just for a moment, but Finn wouldn't let him go. He felt Puck's heavy breath on his hand, watched him struggle and glare at him, but he just glared back and held him tighter.

"It is different, okay?" Finn whispered, close to Puck's ear. "Don't make me the bad guy here. You're not ready to be a father, and neither am I. Someday - _maybe_ - we could do that. But can we take one thing at a time? I just want to get through high school, all right? And, Puck... when I get out of Lima, you're coming with me. I'm not letting you go."

Puck's eyes rolled, like a frightened horse, and his breathing became erratic. Finn moved his hand off Puck's mouth and replaced it with his own lips, kissing him hard. Puck slowly began to respond to Finn's kiss, to his direction, and Finn felt his energy shift from wild to sexual, like flipping a switch.

Puck grunted and shoved his tongue into Finn's mouth, making him moan. He began to shift restlessly, his hands roving over Finn's chest and stomach through his t-shirt. Finn felt the pressures and tensions of the last few days mounting inside him, like a stack of books ready to fall. He needed - he needed...

"Puck," he said, urgently, "would you - I want your mouth, can you-?"

"Yeah," Puck breathed, "let me, I want to -" and he slithered off the bed, between Finn's knees, tugging at his shorts. Finn slipped his shirt and boxers off and gasped as Puck took his cock into his warm, wet mouth.

"So hot," Finn hissed, and he meant it both ways, every possible way. He watched Puck's dark head nestled between his legs, and he opened up wider to make room for Puck to kneel there on the floor, in front of him on the bed. He felt a tingling, a tightening, in the skin under his balls, and when Puck used his tongue under there, he said, helplessly, "_Fuck."_

"Soon," said Puck, and Finn gasped as Puck dragged his wet tongue across the opening of his ass.

"Ohmygodohmygod," Finn moaned, almost in a panic, thrusting upward, and Puck's mouth engulfed his cock again, so perfect, the best feeling in the world, better than anything ever, but then he thought of that tongue again and he suddenly knew that there _might _actually be something better, and he lost his mind entirely, just spread his legs wide, threw one leg up on Puck's shoulder, opening himself up to that amazing possibility of feeling.

Puck obliged by reaching under and running a spit-soaked finger along the crack of his ass, not pressing, just touching lightly, which was maddeningly not enough for Finn. He found himself grinding down on his finger, whimpering, "_Please." _

Puck took his mouth away from Finn's cock for a moment, replacing it with one stroking hand. He went down, positioning his face under Finn's balls, breathing his hot breath, and swiped him again with his tongue, laying a long stripe of wetness upward from his perineum to the tip of his hard cock. "You like that?" Puck said, low and intense.

"God, yeah," Finn whimpered, hardly able to think about what Puck was doing, overwhelmed with sensation and desire. He felt Puck's warm tongue again, probing, pressing deeper, and he pressed back, feeling his tightness ease as he sought more, something vague and a little frightening, but god, he _wanted _it.

"More," he said, and Puck's breathing speeded up, and Finn could feel him moaning against the sensitive skin between his ass and his throbbing cock. Puck reached up and did something to his hips, shifting Finn's angle upward, and pulled him down into his face, against his strong mouth, his long tongue, and it felt like an absurd kiss, like nothing Finn had ever imagined it could feel. He felt pressure, and, deep inside, a throbbing ache.

"You don't have any lube, do you?" said Puck, casting around hopefully, but shook his head before Finn could answer. "Of course you don't; you're Finn Hudson. All right - we can do this. Just want you to know, it'll feel weird at first, but trust me, it's going to get better."

Finn, propped up on shaky elbows, watched Puck put his fingers deep into his throat, which all by itself made his cock twitch and his ass clench in sympathetic response. He made a helpless noise of wanting.

"The spit in the back of your throat is thicker," explained Puck, like he was teaching Finn a new chord on the guitar, and Finn just nodded, mute. He watched Puck's head dip back down again, and felt that incredible warm wet tongue lave him again, bathe his ass, and then, _then, _Puck's middle finger, pressing inside him. He squirmed, still wanting, needing, but also uncomfortable, feeling the tug of the not-quite-wet skin, and strange sensations inside.

"Hang in there," Puck said, and took Finn's rapidly deflating cock back into his mouth, sucking and stroking him with his tongue, and suddenly it was like _a million times_ better. All those strange sensations were transformed into amazing ones, and the muscles of his ass clenched around Puck's finger.

"Uhh, Puck!" he groaned. "God -"

"More?" Puck said, grinning.

"Yeah, that would - oh god," Finn gasped, as Puck scissored another finger inside. He waited, lazily taking Finn's cock deeper into his throat, letting him rest inside his mouth, humming a little, swallowing, tickling him with his tongue on the sensitive underside.

Finn bucked against him, feeling the sweat trickle along his neck and down his back, begging him to move, just _move,_ and he even found the courage to say it, gritting his teeth: "Come _on,_ man, just _do me,"_ and then words became impossible as Puck's hand began thrusting.

That inexplicable, vague wanting was transformed into a very clear, burning desire for Puck to _never, never stop doing that._ The twin sensations of Puck's mouth on his cock and the pressure inside combined to fill Finn with an increasing, spiraling cycle of lust, growing with each thrust, each push. He bit his own hand in an effort to stay quiet, but he knew it was futile. He just prayed his mom was asleep and that she would stay asleep, that she wouldn't hear the sounds of her son having the best sex of his life.

"God, god, yeah, god, fuck," panted Finn, and then he let out a yelp as Puck's middle finger bumped _something_ inside him, something that made him twitch and see stars, and Puck made a sexy chuckle and let Finn slip from his mouth for a second.

"Fucking incredible," said Puck, breathing hard, and Finn had no idea if he was talking about the experience, or about Finn, but he didn't care, he just wanted more of that... _whatever it was._ He raised up his hips and thrust wantonly against Puck's hand, shamelessly, hoping for more, desperately needing to feel it again.

"Yeah, _you're _incredible, this is amazing, god, Puck, love you -" Finn moaned, and Puck dug his fingers deeper, and Finn saw another shower of stars, then another, one right after the other, on and on. He stiffened, falling back onto the bed, and cried out wordlessly, over and over, as he shot pulse after pulse of come down Puck's throat.

For a few long moments there was no sound, no movement, just the rapid breathing of two boys in Finn's bedroom. Finn suddenly thought of Kurt, and he felt a desperate pang of longing for him, to be here, to have experienced this with them, and he felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He hissed as Puck disengaged his fingers from his body, feeling the loss of that connection, and the residual soreness already beginning.

"Are you okay?" Puck asked softly, leaning over him, looking concerned. "I know it feels kind of weird - did I hurt you?"

"I don't think so," Finn said, and his voice sounded shaky. "I was just - oh my god, Puck. That was - " Words failed him and he gulped back the threatening tears.

"Yeah," Puck agreed, stretching out perpendicular to Finn and laying on his back, resting his head on Finn's chest. "I'm so glad you liked it," he added. "I guess some guys don't."

"Jeez," Finn grunted, amazed. "Yeah, if you'd have asked me an hour ago, I would have told you no thanks."

"And now?" Puck said, glancing at him.

"Give me a day to recover," Finn said, smiling, "but yeah. God, yeah." He put a hand on Puck's hair and stroked his sweaty forehead. "I take it... you like it, too?"

"Yeah," Puck said quietly. "I do."

"Do you... want me to do that to you? I mean..." Finn felt himself heating up, remembering all the things Puck had just done, not sure he even knew the names for some of them. "I would. If you wanted."

Puck didn't even hesitate. "I want you to do everything to me, Finn," he said, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at him. "There's not one thing I don't want. Whenever you want to try something new, you can count on me to be there, ready to do it with you."

Finn shook his head in disbelief. "You are incredible," he said, and Puck turned red. "No, really. You're totally fearless. You just say what you think. "

"That doesn't always work out so good, dude," said Puck, stroking his jaw ruefully. "Saying what you think can get you into trouble."

Finn put up a hand and touched his chin. Puck grew still, feeling the energy change, and looked silently back at Finn.

"I always want you to tell me what you think," said Finn, seriously.

"Yes, sir," Puck replied, just as seriously, licking his lips.

"I always want you to be honest with me," he continued, sitting up, leaning in to kiss Puck's neck, his ear, his chin.

"Y-yes, sir," Puck said again, letting Finn guide him back down to the bed, to lay on his back.

"And - I know sometimes it's hard to know this, but - as often as possible, I want you to tell me what you want," he went on, smoothly, almost unobtrusively, undoing Puck's jeans, stroking him through his grey shorts.

"God - yes, sir!" he gasped. "I want - I want -"

"Tell me," he said, commanding.

"I want Kurt here," Puck said, and Finn flinched, feeling it like a blow. He dropped his head, leaning over Puck, the mood gone. Tears slipped, unbidden, from his eyes onto Puck's t-shirt.

"Me, too," he said, shaking his head. "I was afraid to say something because I didn't want you to think I didn't like what we just did, but... I want him here, too."

"I don't feel bad, exactly, doing this without him," Puck said, "but I think some of it, he really needs to be here. Like it wouldn't be fair to start something new without him."

Finn carefully lay his naked body down on top of Puck's clothed one, feeling the sweet twinge of soreness inside, and Puck let out a long, low moan. "I think what we just did qualifies as something new," Finn said.

"Yeah," Puck agreed. "Would you have liked him here for that?"

He was almost embarrassed by the tears that continued to flow. "Yeah," he said, his face in Puck's neck.

Puck kissed him gently and snuck his hands around to stroke the small of his back. Suddenly that had a whole new meaning for Finn, and he could feel the echoes reverberating in that amazing sweet spot inside him. "You want him to be here when we do it again?"

"Yes," Finn hissed, grinding Puck down into the mattress with his renewed erection. "Do you?"

"Fuck, yeah," Puck groaned, thrusting up into Finn's hip. "I want... god, I want..."

"Come on, tell me," Finn whispered, biting his ear, his neck, working his way down. "Where would Kurt be?"

"Uhhh," said Puck, shivering. "Harder. _Yes._ He would - he'd be lying on the bed, spread out in front of me, so I could suck his cock - ohhhhh, Finn, do it, harder - and then I want you behind me, inside me -"

Finn's brain reeled with the possibilities. He continued working his way down Puck's chest, to his nipple ring, and lower. "Yeah, or he could be lying next to you on the bed, talking dirty to you in your ear while I've got my tongue -"

"Finn!" Puck gasped, and reached down, into his unzipped jeans, pulled his cock out of his shorts and fisted it roughly, stroking himself against Finn's body. Finn felt the slap and pull of Puck's rhythm against his chest, and it made him crazy. He moved lower, and watched, mesmerized, as Puck jerked off in front of him, right in his face.

"God, I've had this dream before," Finn said, running a hand down the inside of Puck's sweaty thigh. "You, doing this, in the shower at school."

"Yeah, let's do that," Puck said, and Finn moaned, putting a hand down to stroke himself. They lay together like that for a few long moments, jerking off in tandem, arrested by their own overlapping fantasies.

Then Finn hesitantly brought his face closer to Puck's bobbing erection, and touched his tongue to the tip as it swung by. Puck's face snapped down to Finn's, and he stopped stroking, holding very still.

"Is - it okay?" Finn asked, nervously.

"_Yeah,_" Puck said, his voice brimming with wanting. "I'm just - gonna come quickly, that's all."

"Okay," Finn said, and he carefully put his mouth around the end of Puck's red, weeping cock.

"_Shit,_ Finn," Puck said, and he balled his hands in the sheets, closing his eyes, panting and clearly trying hard to stay still while Finn tried this for the first time.

Finn let himself get lost in the sensations, the silky smooth texture of Puck's cock on his tongue and lips, the sour tang of his sweat and come. He allowed himself to bury himself in the unbelievably delicious musk of Puck's body, thinking of all the guilty times he'd smelled Puck, at football practice, during dance in Glee, and how he'd wanted to put his nose right against him, to taste him - and here he was, doing just that, at last.

Puck wasn't small by any means, but Finn was a big guy, with a big, wide mouth, and it wasn't too much effort to take Puck in deep, to press his lips all the way against Puck's pelvis and, with a sense of accomplishment, to hum gently, as Puck (_and Kurt,_ he thought sadly) had done before. Puck gasped, and made a little thrust against Finn's mouth. Finn felt his throat close, choked, and let Puck slip free.

"Sorry," he said, and tried again, this time with more success.

"You're doing - awesome," Puck encouraged, with barely a tremble to his voice, but his body was taut and he was rocking his pelvis gently back and forth up into Finn's lips. "You feel fucking incredible. I can't believe - I just can't believe this is you, here. That this is my life." He took a shuddering breath in, and out. "Finn - I'm-ohmygod-"

Finn toyed with the idea of pulling off and letting Puck come all over his chest, because _god,_ that would be pretty hot, but at the last minute decided it would be easier cleanup if he just swallowed. He felt Puck's thrusting speed up, and he sped up his strokes to meet him, listening to the ecstatic noises pouring out of Puck's mouth, and feeling inordinately pleased that he could do that for him. He swallowed, tasting Puck on his tongue. It didn't taste so bad, he thought, licking off his lips. Maybe he even liked it, a little.

"I love you," he said, leaning over Puck, who was lying boneless on the bed, still half-wearing his jeans and t-shirt. He looked in his eyes and kissed him passionately. Puck just lay there, looking up at him with big eyes, scarcely able to make a noise. Finn decided he liked that part, too. _I can make him talk and I can make him shut up, with my mouth on his cock,_ he thought smugly.

"I'm sorry Kurt wasn't here," said Finn, "but I'm not sorry I did that. I really wanted to."

"I'm - I'm glad you did, then," said Puck. "There's, um, there's still some risk in what you did, you know. Like for STDs."

"I know," he said. "I went home after we talked and read about it online. The risk is pretty small, and you said you were clean. Even considering the possibility of a mistake in testing, I think this is safe."

"Okay," said Puck, closing his eyes. "Just wanting you to be safe, you know, next time. When you do this with someone else."

"I don't really see me with anyone else, Puck," said Finn, laughing. "You and Kurt are about all I can handle, honestly."

Puck opened his eyes again, and this time his face was hard to read. "You just want to be with - us?"

"Yeah," he said. "Is, um, is that okay?"

Puck studied Finn's face, a rare genuine smile emerging. "I'm kind of thinking it is," he admitted. "I wasn't sure at first, but I think that's what I want, too."

Finn thought he had a pretty good sense of Puck's sexual history, and he imagined what this meant to Puck. He felt oddly touched. "You really think we're going to be enough for you? Me and Kurt?" Puck nodded. "What about girls?"

Puck shrugged. "If I really missed girls, I would... let you know, right? We could talk about it, figure it out. But, um, I haven't. I mean, I haven't missed them." He grinned. "Kurt's pretty girly, I guess."

"You think?" Finn raised an eyebrow. Puck turned inexplicably red.

"No." He shook his head. "I was kidding. He's not. He's kind of, well. Hot." Finn laughed, and Puck's blush spread down to his neck. He covered his face. "Come on, man! Leave me alone."

"Jeez, you really have a thing for him," Finn teased, poking him in the ribs. Puck batted his finger away, still hiding his face. "Holy cow, Puck. What's this all about?"

"Shit, Finn." Puck sighed. "I was really terrible to Kurt for a long time. Like, all last year, and even part of this one."

"I remember," Finn said. "I was, too."

"Not like me. I was like, Karofsky mean. I picked on him every day. I slammed him into lockers, I slushied him, I threw him into dumpsters. And why? Apparently because I thought he was really hot." He shook his head. "I feel like shit about it. I keep trying to apologize to Kurt, but he blows me off every time."

"I did that, too, before we started... before this," said Finn. "Remember when I went over to your house a couple weeks ago and brought you a slushie, to apologize? I brought him one, too, and I threw it in my own face while he watched."

"No way, man!" Puck laughed, impressed. "What did he do then-99-?"

"He, um." Finn smiled, remembering. "He licked it off my cheek."

"Whoa." Puck's eyes got big, and he took a deep breath. "Jeez. That's, like... awesome."

"Yeah, it was," nodded Finn. "It was pretty much the first time I realized I was into him, like I was into you. For a while I thought it might only be you."

"Good thing you realized," Puck grinned. "Hey - speaking of that night with the slushie? I want to show you something." Puck stood up, zipping up his jeans in the process, and dug into his back pocket. Finn watched, interested, as Puck came up with a much-folded piece of paper.

"My Ma told me to make a list of all the things I wanted in a girl, so I wouldn't compromise the next time I went looking for one," he explained. "So here's my list."

Finn unfolded it and read:

_hot_

_not a prude_

_not crazy_

_lets me do what I want_

_likes to eat_

_sings_

_honest_

_likes stuff I like to do_

_likes my friends_

_has a good heart_

_treats people with respect_

_funny_

_patient_

_listens_

_not a wimp, but not as badass as me_

_forgives me_

He looked up to see Puck watching him. "So I realized that _you_ pretty much fit all these criteria," he said. "I think that was when I started really paying attention. You know, to what was going on. Between us."

Finn nodded slowly. "I'm your ideal girl, huh?"

"Yeah," said Puck, grinning. "Pretty much."

Finn looked at him shyly. "You think I'm hot?"

Puck laughed. "Smoking hot, dude. I even like watching you dance."

"That's pretty desperate, Puck," Finn said, and Puck hit him on the shoulder. Then he wrestled him onto the bed, which wouldn't have been such a big deal, except Finn was still completely naked. By the time they were done wrestling, Puck had been entirely distracted from their conversation by the muscles in Finn's back. It took him a moment to realize what Finn meant when he asked, "What about Daphne and Nicole?"

"What about them?" Puck asked.

"You said you were still in love with them. And, um, Alex." Finn looked pointedly at Puck. "Don't you want to, like, be with them?"

"They're already a family," he shrugged. "Maybe I'd like to visit and stuff, but I would rather. You know." He looked at the floor. "Make my own family." He looked back at Finn, and his eyes were shuttered.

"You want to make a family with me?"

"And Kurt," Puck said, quietly, almost a whisper.

Finn felt dizzy. He was glad he was already sitting down. "What are you saying, Puck?"

"Don't, Finn," said Puck. He shook his head. "We don't have to have this conversation yet. You're not ready, I get it."

"Holy shit, man," he said.

"I said, just drop it," Puck said, and he sounded almost angry. Finn thought about it, and he decided Puck was right. _Everything is more dramatic at three in the morning,_ he thought, looking at the clock. _Plus, we probably need Kurt around for this one. _He looked at Puck with a new sense of possibility, though, and it wasn't an unpleasant one.

"Puck," said Finn, and he took Puck's hands. Puck looked desperately at everything except Finn. "Puck," he said again, and this time it was a command. Puck's eyes shot back to his. "It's okay. We can talk about it later, with Kurt. When you're ready." Puck relaxed, nodded. "Last thing. What are you going to do about Quinn? She wants you to raise this baby with her. How are you going to convince her that's a bad idea?"

"Um." Puck thought, then a smile appeared on his lips. It was not a nice smile. "She's kind of a prude, right? What if I tell her I was sexting in the middle of babysitting? And then she sees the proof?"

"How are you going to do -" Finn stopped, glared at Puck, then laughed. "Really? Kurt?"

"Yeah," Puck shrugged. "Like I said, he's pretty hot."

Finn worked it out. "Yeah. It's perfect. It'll chase Quinn off, and it's good for us. Maybe you can have a - you know? A mustache?"

"A beard, you mean?" He grinned, thinking of Santana saying she was on his side. "She might actually keep my secret. Our secret."

"I'm not crazy about secrets," said Finn. "It's just for now. Someday I want everybody to know about you. Both of you. All of us."

"Yeah," said Puck, and kissed him with all the love and possibility he could muster before climbing back out the window.


	14. Chapter 14

Finn felt a little strange brushing his teeth next to Quinn the next morning. _One bathroom just isn't enough when your ex-girlfriend is sleeping in the room next door, _he thought, making room for her to spit. She did so, delicately, and rinsed the sink when she was done.

"I wanted you to know I'm moving my stuff over to Brit's house this morning," Quinn said, leaning on the door frame. "She has an extra room. Your mom's been really nice letting me stay here."

"Okay," he said. "Sounds like a good plan. Do you need any help?"

"I think I can still lift two bags," she said testily. Then she sighed. "Finn, I... I heard, okay? I heard you. Last night."

"What -" He turned bright red as he realized what she must have heard. He hadn't been able to keep quiet with Puck - his tongue... his fingers... _Gah. _ "Quinn, I -"

"It's okay, Finn. We're not together. You've made it clear that we can't - be what we were. You can have your own life." She looked miserable. "Is it Rachel?"

"Rachel?" He swallowed. "No, it's not Rachel."

"I don't actually want to know," she said, but she looked somewhat relieved. She snaked an arm around his waist and looked up at him. "I hope you're happy."

"I really am," he said, but even as he thought of Puck, of the unbelievable night they'd had, he also thought of Kurt, and knew he had to see him, now, before the day could get any more complicated. He kissed Quinn on the top of her head, and she smiled at him, surprised, before heading down to get her bags.

* * *

><p>Puck's grocery list was three pages long. He'd already picked up some of the more obscure ingredients earlier in the week, but most of it he'd get at Whole Foods before heading over to Finn's. He still had a little money left over from the open mic two weekends ago; this would pretty much take care of it, but he didn't mind.<p>

He sat in his truck and remembered last night, feeling a rolling tension in his gut at the memory of Finn's words about them, about being a family. They hurt, those words did, especially the ones about the baby. _His baby,_ he thought defiantly, holding the grocery list tight enough to wrinkle it. _Finn couldn't tell him what to do about her. She _was_ his, as much as he was Kurt's or Finn's. More, even. _

He rubbed his forehead in confusion and kicked the car into gear, pulling into traffic a little faster than he needed to. This was too much thinking for a Saturday morning. He wanted to be in action. He wanted to get in the kitchen - he'd be prepping most of the day as it was.

Puck was browsing the mushrooms when he heard a familiar laugh. "God, Puckerman. Could you be any more of a fruit? What in the hell are you doing in the produce section?"

He grinned at Santana, knowing her words had no particular meaning, other than to annoy him. "I'm making dinner for my fabulous boyfriends," he said with over-the-top flamboyance, knowing she'd think the same about his words.

She laughed and poked at the dried mushrooms with a finger. "These look like they'd taste about as good as the crap my dog leaves in the yard," she said. "What are they?"

"Dried morels," he said. "They cost a bazillion dollars, but they actually taste pretty amazing."

"Well, they look like ass." She wrinkled her nose and put the package down, then picked up the other mushrooms, these with flat caps and long wrinkled stems. "What are these?"

"Shiitake," he said.

"Gesundheit," she said, glancing up at him through lowered lashes. He hit her with a bag of mesclun lettuce, and she cackled with satisfaction.

Then he remembered the texts. He picked up an avocado, felt for ripeness, put it back. "Hey, Santana, I need you to do me a favor on Monday."

"And I would do this for you because?" she drawled, finding two perfect avocados and passing them to him. He nodded in approval and beckoned for more.

"Because this is sneaky and you love that kind of thing. And, um, because you said you were on my side." He picked up a bag of sweet potatoes, another of red potatoes and three shallots and set them in the cart, thought again, added another shallot.

She raised her eyebrows. "This is about your secret girlfriend?"

"Something like that." He added several heads of garlic and a couple ginger roots to the pile in the cart. "Can you lie to Quinn?"

Santana rolled her eyes, taking his arm and strolling down the aisle with him as he pushed the cart toward the bulk foods. "Does the pope shit in the woods?"

Puck took a paper bag and poured a generous portion of slivered almonds into it. He folded and marked it and set it in the cart, then did the same with pecans and a smaller amount of hazelnuts. "Okay. On Monday, I want you to go to Quinn and tell her to stop chasing me. Like, to leave me alone. And then tell her you were sexting with me on Friday night when we were babysitting."

"Babysitting?" She got a look of disgust on her face. "She must really be hard up for cash."

They walked over to the cheese aisle. "It was kind of fun, actually," he said, shrugging. "Kids are easy. You just have to think like a kid."

"You're a kid whisperer," Santana jeered, poking him in the ribs, but Puck bore it stoically, long ago having suppressed his tickle urges in defense against a sneaky sister. "I never would have guessed it of you, Puckerman."

"I pretty much raised my sister, and she turned out okay," he said, selecting a big block of gorgonzola and smelling it. He held it up to Santana and she took a whiff, then waved a disgusted hand in front of her nose. He grinned. "Don't like the stinky cheese, huh? Get two boxes of cream cheese. No, the organic kind. Oh, and three pints of cream."

"These?" Santana asked, holding up the yellow bottles. He nodded and she set them in the cart. "So, you know she's going to come find your phone and check for the texts. This is Quinn we're talking about. What are you going to do about that?"

"Already handled," he said, smirking. He leaned across the deli counter. "Could I get a pound of sliced turkey pastrami?"

"Oh, really?" She dug in his back pocket, came up with his phone and browsed his texts. She frowned, finding the conversation with "Santana X. Lopez." "I didn't send these. Damn, they are kind of hot."

"Okay, that's enough," he said, retrieving his phone. _Those were for me. Just for me._ He reviewed the text history with satisfaction, his heart catching a little as he re-read the last words he'd sent: _Dude, I fucking love you. What do you think?_ "So, can you help me?"

She shrugged. "Seems easy enough. What's in it for me?"

"I'll pack you lunch on Monday. Leftovers from dinner." He gestured to the cart. Her eyes widened and she nodded.

"Deal." She watched him order three pounds of free-range tenderloin and four tilapia fillets. "Can I...?" She coughed, embarrassed. "Can I have some of the steak _and_ the fish?"

He smiled, then tapped on the meat counter. "Better make that five fillets. Thanks, Santana."


	15. Chapter 15

When he got to Finn's house, Kurt found Puck unloading grocery bags from the truck. "Can I give you a hand?" he offered, putting a hand on Puck's back.

Puck smiled at him, glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and kissed him quickly. Kurt's breath caught at the smile, but the kiss warmed him to his toes. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that," he said, smiling back, and picked up a bag.

"Glad to keep you on your toes, Hummel," Puck said. He followed Kurt into the house, and took advantage of his position to goose him as they went into the kitchen. Kurt put down the bag and fended off further advances with weak protestations, until finally he gave in and stepped into the circle of Puck's arms.

"Where's Carole?" he asked, looking around nervously.

Puck ran a hand through Kurt's hair. "She plays tennis on Saturday mornings," he said. "Finn's showering upstairs. We've got a few minutes." He pulled him into a deeper kiss, and Kurt felt his insides turn to jelly at Puck's breath on his skin. _When did I come to crave this, with him? _Kurt wondered. _How did we go from enemies to... lovers?_

"You taste like ginger," he said, with his tongue in Puck's mouth.

Puck grinned around the kiss. "Cupcake batter," he said, and put a finger out to a bowl on the counter, dipping the finger inside and offering it to Kurt, who obediently opened his mouth and took the finger between his lips. Puck's breath came more quickly and his lips went slack as Kurt sucked his finger clean. "God. You are so fucking sexy, Hummel."

Kurt closed his eyes, loving the way his gut quivered at Puck's words, even as he scarcely believed them. He wrapped arms around Puck's broad shoulders and pressed their bodies together, feeling himself ignite at each point of contact. "I could say the same about you," he whispered, and he thrilled at the shudder that went through Puck as he spoke.

"Really?" Puck said, softly. "You think I'm sexy?"

Kurt's breath exploded in an incredulous laugh. "How could you doubt that? I've never seen you question your desirability."

Puck frowned. "Not from anybody else. From you, though..." He shook his head. "I don't know, it's like... it matters so much more. And I've always... I've been so awful to you for so long. I can't believe you want me like that." He looked at the floor. "I can't believe you... forgive me."

Kurt traced the line of Puck's square jaw with one finger, his full lips, and cupped his face in his hand. Puck leaned into Kurt's hand and closed his eyes, kissing the fingers. "Yes, Noah," he said, tenderly, scarcely believing the depth of emotion he felt for this boy. "I forgive you. I want you. I... I love you."

"God," Puck said, squeezing his eyes shut, gasping as though he were in pain. His hazel eyes opened and connected with Kurt's blue ones, and they were wet and shining. "I love you, Kurt," he whispered.

They stood there, bathed in the heat and perfection of their shared connection, unable to look away. Finally Kurt wrapped Puck back into an embrace and held him, rocking a little. "How did things come out at home?" he murmured into his ear.

"As well as could be expected," Puck said, relaxing into Kurt's arms. "Which is to say, not so good. Sarah and I mostly took turns yelling at my mom until she gave up and went to bed." He sighed.

"My family's pretty good at avoiding conflict," Kurt said. "Brooding and worrying come out of our toolbox before fighting."

Puck laughed ruefully. "We've got a lot of experience at the fighting part, but I can't really say we're good at it."

"It was kind of scary, last night," Kurt admitted.

"You were beyond amazing, Kurt," Puck said, hugging him tight. "You stood up for me. Nobody's done that, other than Sarah, in - well, a long time."

"I'm not going to let anybody hurt you, Noah," Kurt said, and if it was a little incongruous for Kurt to say that to Puck, while being held in Puck's strong arms, it didn't matter to either of them.

"Thank you," Puck whispered, before heading back out to the truck for another bag.

They'd unloaded all the groceries and had unpacked the perishables when Finn came downstairs, toweling his hair dry. "Hey," he said, surprised. "I didn't expect to see you until after noon."

"There's a lot of prep to do," Puck said. He glanced at Kurt. "You guys better get out of here and let me work."

"Are we in the way?" Kurt asked, setting the last of the meat in the fridge.

"Not exactly," said Puck, with a slow smile. "You're just a little... distracting." He put out an arm to Finn and one to Kurt, and they gathered together around him. He breathed out, slowly, as first Kurt and then Finn put his lips on Puck's cheek, his neck.

"One week ago," said Puck quietly. "One week. A different kitchen. We made... a toast. To us." He looked at Finn, at Kurt. "Are you still in?"

"Yeah," said Finn. "Of course I am. Are you?"

"Yeah," Puck said. They both turned to Kurt, who was standing with eyes downcast. "Kurt?"

"I - need to talk with Finn," he said. Then he looked up at Puck. "But... yes. I still want this. With us. I'm in."

Puck looked unhappily at Finn, but he nodded. "Okay." He backed out of their collective embrace, and nudged the two of them together. Kurt slowly stepped into Finn's arms, but it felt awkward, forced, and they moved apart again, shuffling their feet and averting their eyes.

"All right, then," Puck growled. "Everybody says relationships take work. Well, I guess this is the work part." He pointed at the hallway. "Now you guys - get the hell out of here and _fix this._" He held up a wooden spoon, threateningly. "Because, I swear, nobody's eating one bite until the two of you are okay."


	16. Chapter 16

(Author's note: warning for discipline and Dom/sub, and seriously cheesy dialogue. Boy, I've missed these two together. Dinner party coming up...)

* * *

><p>Kurt and Finn moved with alacrity up the stairs to Finn's room, leaving Puck to his work. "Jeez," said Kurt, looking out the door before closing it. "He's really pissed. What's going on?"<p>

"That's a good question, Kurt." Finn sat on the bed and looked up at him. He seemed calm, but his eyes were pained and he did not reach for Kurt. The distance between them felt like miles. Kurt cleared his throat. He looked at the clock. It was just after noon.

"Do you know when your mom will be back?" Kurt asked, pacing the short distance from one end of the room to the other.

"Not for another hour at least. Kurt... _Kurt._" Finn's voice was sharp and short, like the crack of a whip. Kurt froze and looked hard at anything: the floor, the wall, Finn's computer keyboard. It was missing the J.

"Come here," Finn said, patting the bed next to him. Kurt felt himself drawn, almost unwillingly, to the space next to Finn. He sat, not too close, and still wouldn't look at him.

Finn reached out a slow hand to stroke his back, but Kurt motioned him away with a finger and a raised eyebrow, and Finn stopped. He sighed.

"I get it," Finn said softly. "You're scared. These are a lot of confusing feelings. I'm guessing it's been a while since you were confused by the feelings you had for another guy. Consider, though, what I've been feeling the last month... what Puck's probably feeling too. I mean, we _get it._" He leaned back on the bed, not quite touching Kurt, but making a space for him in the crook of his arm. "And we care about you. It's hard to see you dealing with... whatever it is... and not asking for help. Please don't push us away."

"You care about me," repeated Kurt. "And Puck?"

"_Yes,"_ Finn said. He tried the hand on Kurt's shoulder again, and this time Kurt didn't push him away, though the muscles in his back and chest felt tight, like rubber bands stretched and about to snap. "So much, it kind of scares me."

"Scares _you?"_ Kurt shook his head bitterly. "Finn... last I checked, you don't hit people you care about."

"Is that what this is about?" Finn sighed. "I know, that's confusing. It is to me, too, sometimes. I don't really understand where it comes from. But... Puck. He needs it. Something in him needs... that, won't be satisfied without it. Don't you see how it helps him?"

"And you?" Kurt didn't answer the question. "Do you need it, too?"

Finn was silent. He shifted his weight a little closer to Kurt, so their legs were touching. "I think... maybe I do." His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to explain. "It's not so much the hitting, although that's part of it. It's... it's being... in charge. Being responsible for his... everything."

Kurt thought of how things had been last night, with Puck and his mother, and his overwhelming, fierce desire to protect him, to keep him safe. "I understand that," he said. "I want... that, too. With him."

Finn nodded. "I thought you might. We can do that together, right? You and me?"

"Yes," Kurt said. He swallowed and looked at his hands, miserably silent.

"So what's the problem?" Finn squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "Is it me? Do you still want... me?"

Kurt closed his eyes and stopped breathing for a moment. "I want you too much," he said at last, in a tense monotone. "I want you every day, all the time. I want you in my bed, in my house, everywhere I am. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to feel your skin, to -" He stopped, choking back a sob. Finn took him then into his arms, and he let him, leaning in.

"To sit on the couch with me," Finn prompted softly. Kurt nodded vigorously, almost frantically.

"To sit in your l-lap, and have you hold me, like we... like I..." _Like I matter,_ Kurt thought, trying to breathe around the lump in his throat. He was having trouble focusing on his words with Finn's body so close. His eyes were burning and he crushed them shut against Finn's chest.

"Kurt," breathed Finn, "do you want that - too? Do you want _me_ - in charge? Of you?"

"_I don't know,"_ groaned Kurt, balling his fists in Finn's shirt.

"'Cause we don't have to do that, you know," he went on. "What we had - what we _have,_ this, it's just been you and me, together, you know - talking, and figuring it out, and that's really - awesome." Finn petted Kurt's hair. "We don't have to do it any other way. I love this."

"I love it, too," Kurt said. He raised his head, touched his mouth to the skin just above the collar of Finn's t-shirt. Finn shivered and pulled him closer, brought his trembling lips down to brush Kurt's. They groaned, together, and felt the pull of each other's bodies.

The image of Puck sitting in Finn's lap, the words _Who do you belong to?_ and the answer, _You, _flashed through his mind, and he felt a stabbing ache in his gut. For a moment, he ignored it, smothered it in the feeling of Finn's lips on his, but then he stopped. He pictured Puck again, this time right in his face, saying, _No lies. No hiding. _He put a hand on Finn's chest, breathed their connection.

"I do," he said, in a voice barely bigger than a whisper.

"You do?" said Finn.

"... Want it," said Kurt.

For a moment, neither of them made a sound. Kurt felt his face heating up, wondered if he'd said too much, or the wrong thing. Then he felt two fingers grasping his chin, guiding his face up to Finn's, and their eyes met.

The steady fire in Finn's gaze pinned Kurt to the bed. He was unable to look away. "You want to belong to me," he said calmly, and it was not a question.

"Yes," gulped Kurt.

"I need you to say the words," said Finn, in that same calm, direct voice, the one that made Kurt want to jump and do what he said, immediately.

"I want to belong to you," said Kurt, and it flowed easily off his tongue. He listened to himself as though they were someone else's words. "I want you to be in charge of me."

Finn let go of his chin, but did not drop his gaze. "Do you understand what you're asking?"

"Not completely," admitted Kurt. "But I... I don't think I can do without it." He felt dizzy at the enormity of that admission. "Watching you and Noah together, like that, has been... torture. I couldn't tell you I wanted it, couldn't tell myself. I still... I don't know if I like it. I'm not sure what I can handle. It's scary." He breathed through the fear, and continued. "But I still... want it. I think I need it."

Finn took Kurt's hand. "It's all right. We'll talk more about it later," he said. "But right now, you're going to listen to me, about how it's going to be."

Kurt nodded, squeezing his hand, feeling his stomach flutter and clench.

"This is not a negotiation," said Finn. "There will be room for that, outside of... this. We can have times when it's equal, too, like we had before. But right now, when it's you and me, and we're alone like this, you need to do what I say, and trust me to make good choices for you, for us." He tipped his head a little to one side. "That hasn't always been easy for you. Do you think you can do that?"

Kurt licked his lips and tried to think rationally. "Can I ask questions?"

"Sometimes," said Finn, "but we have to set that up in advance. Today, it's okay."

"Are you - will you -" Kurt swallowed. "What if I... make a mistake?" He remembered, with searing clarity, Puck laid bare-bottomed across his lap, the exchange of energy that simple episode had wrought between them, and felt a surge of panic at the idea of being on the receiving end, with Finn's hand - he gasped involuntarily as Finn touched his rock-hard cock. Finn nodded to himself, satisfied.

"A mistake? You mean, like what you did with Rachel?" Finn's eyebrow quirked, and Kurt felt shame cover him like a blanket. "Can you explain that?"

"It - it didn't start out being about you," he stuttered. "Mercedes set up a makeover afternoon, and somehow Rachel got involved, and we were - I was trying to help her look - more appealing. And she said, she said you - she was in love with you."

Finn sighed. "Okay," he said. "Go on."

"And I - I tried to help, wanted to show her that she was never going to be - what you wanted." His eyes flickered to his lap, and back to Finn's eyes. "She's... she's not, right?"

"Kurt, if you have to ask that, I haven't done a very good job at showing you how I feel about you." Finn shook his head. "I like Rachel. I like her a lot. _The way she is._ She's struggling enough to feel accepted by Glee, by you guys. You need to do a better job of including her in things. Help her to be a better friend."

"Okay," Kurt said, uncertainly.

Finn's gaze hardened to steel. "But what you did, to her, she didn't deserve that. It embarrassed her, and me. You don't get to play with people's feelings like that."

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, honestly feeling it, pleading with his eyes.

"I believe you," said Finn. "Now, stand up." Kurt stood, hesitantly, and Finn gestured for him to stand in front of him. Then he quickly unzipped Kurt's cream-colored Ralph Laurens and pulled them down, in one sharp movement, with his underwear, leaving him exposed front and back. Kurt struggled not to cover his erection in embarrassment. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, and ended up crossing his arms, but Finn uncrossed them and got up from where he was sitting.

"Put your hands here, on the bed," Finn said. Kurt leaned over slowly, putting his hands in the warmth left behind by Finn's body. He braced himself. Finn put his hands on Kurt's legs and spread them, a little more, still more, until he was satisfied.

It felt like eons were passing, but Kurt knew it was only moments before he felt Finn's hand on his lower back, stroking, making little circles. He heard himself moan before he could stop himself, and bucked his hips into the air, feeling light-headed with arousal and anticipation.

"You can tell me if it feels like too much," said Finn, and he placed his broad hand on Kurt's smooth, pale buttocks. "I don't want there to be any confusion this time. We can figure out, you know, a safe word or whatever, for later. But right now, you tell me stop, I'm going to stop."

"Okay," said Kurt, and he couldn't help himself, he blurted, "Thank you."

"You can make any noises you want, but try not to move too much," Finn said. "I don't want to hit the wrong parts."

Kurt nodded, and breathed out.

Finn took a measured breath, then Kurt felt the absence of his hand before there was a _smack,_ and a slow, glittering burn blossomed on the space between his back and his legs. Kurt let out a low, breathy note, a melodic moan that floated in the air between them.

"Oh, god," he said, and before the last word was out, Finn laid another _smack_ down next to the first one, slightly overlapping. Kurt could feel the burn last longer on the space where the two had touched. He shivered a little, but held still, and felt inexplicably proud of this fact.

The third and fourth strokes were tolerable, but as they went on, firm and definite, Kurt felt the burn building, until he lost track of how many. "Wait," he said, and Finn paused, putting his hand on the hot, tender skin and rubbing very gently. Kurt moaned again, leaning into it.

"Ready?" said Finn, calm and cool. Kurt felt like he could swim in the pool of that voice forever.

"Yes," said Kurt, and let out a cry at the next stroke, which seemed to light him on fire. He felt tears begin, tears of relief at tension let free at last, tears of regret and shame for what he'd done, tears of thanks for Finn's relentless hand, for his patient regard and matter-of-fact acceptance of this, Kurt's most secret desire, expressed and fulfilled in one glorious exchange.

"Yes, that's good, baby, that's so good," said Finn, and Kurt felt himself release, sobbing, his arms buckling to land him onto the bed in a heap. Finn's hand came up and encircled Kurt's shoulder, and his other arm came under Kurt's legs, lifting him gently onto Finn's lap. Kurt wrapped his arms around Finn's warm torso and buried his face into his chest.

"You did so good, baby, my sweet baby," Finn whispered into his hair, kissing him gently.

"God, Finn, I love you so much," Kurt cried, feeling his tears and snot soaking Finn's shirt, not caring, just overwhelmed with gratitude for this man, holding him.

"I love you, Kurt," he said. Kurt heard echoes of the moment with Puck down in the kitchen, and he felt a stab of yearning for him. _He could have held me, while Finn... _was as far as his thought went before he was groaning and thrusting up against Finn. Finn obliged with a firm hand around his cock, stroking, slow and sweet. Kurt was acutely aware of the tenderness of his behind, but it didn't interfere with his arousal; if anything, it intensified it.

Finn helped Kurt strip off his pants, which had only been pulled down partway. His lips brushed his ear as he gathered him close between his thighs, letting Kurt rest on his chest. "I missed you so much," he said. "Thank you for coming back to me. I wasn't sure what I was going to do without you much longer." Finn's control was slipping, and Kurt could feel him shudder, his own tears threatening.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, writhing and thrusting into Finn's grip. "I'm sorry I ran away, I shouldn't have, I was scared - oh, god - I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Finn asked, not stopping his slow strokes.

"How much - how much I - wanted that," Kurt said, panting. "Still want it - want you to give it to me."

"God," Finn said, his voice breaking. He held Kurt tightly, squeezing him with his thighs, enveloping his entire body in his embrace. "I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear that."

"Want so much," said Kurt. He reached up and touched Finn's face, felt his stubble, his soft lips. "Want everything with you."

"Everything?" Finn said.

"Everything," Kurt agreed.

Suddenly Kurt felt himself lifted up, and then laid gently down on the bed, squeaking as his abused rear end met the quilt. Finn knelt between Kurt's legs, met his shocked eyes, and smiled a little nervously before slipping his lips over Kurt's cock.

"Oh-!" Kurt gasped, and that was just about all he could say, over and over, "oh, oh, oh," as each thrust of Finn's mouth delivered another wave of hot, wet friction.

It wasn't the perfect skill of the blowjob he'd gotten from Puck; it was inexpert and sloppy, with awkward pacing and plenty of pauses to adjust, but it was _Finn,_ it was _Finn's mouth_, and he'd never felt so blessed as he did in this moment, with Finn kneeling before him. Kurt put a hand on Finn's head and felt the rhythm of his movements matched by the throbbing inside, like a dream, and knew he was close.

"Gonna come," he said breathily, and Finn hummed approval, putting his hands on Kurt's hips and pulling him closer, deeper into his mouth. Kurt's pleasure crested, grew impossibly greater, larger, and finally, broke. "God - oh, Finn!" he shouted.

"Now that's more like it," said Puck from the door, his voice brimming with approval and heat. Kurt whipped his head around to stare in shock, and Finn choked, spluttering, wiping his mouth hurriedly.

"Don't worry," Puck said, "nobody's home yet. But you don't have much more time." He closed the door and pushed the button in the handle, grinning. "Somebody forgot to lock it, hmm?"

"I didn't figure we'd need privacy from you," Finn said, somewhat outraged, still recovering, but grinning back. He reached out a hand to Puck and pulled him close, kissing him.

"Mmmm," said Puck, licking his lips and reaching down a hand to brush Kurt's bare stomach. "Dang, Hummel, you taste good. Must be all those vegetables you eat."

Kurt collapsed back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, his face burning, but feeling so unbelievably good that he had trouble doing anything other than smile. Puck stretched out beside him on the bed and traced a hand up the side of his naked thigh. "You guys okay now?" he teased.

"Yesss," Kurt hissed, feeling Puck's hand come into contact with the edges of sensitive flesh. Puck rolled him to the side and whistled at the sight of his ass.

"What's it look like?" he asked, feeling morbidly curious.

"Gorgeous," Puck assessed. "It'll be black and blue tomorrow, I bet."

"God." Kurt covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe... no, there's so many things I can't believe, I can't list them all."

Finn lay down on the other side of Kurt, framing him on one side, Puck on the other, three long bodies touching. Kurt could taste himself in Finn's mouth when Finn kissed him, which made him moan all over again.

"Kurt, we love you," Finn said. "Are you ready to stop this running away shit? Or, I swear, I'm going to come after you with Puck's wooden spoon."

"Trust me, that leaves serious marks," Puck stage-whispered, and kissed his neck on the other side.

"All right," Kurt cried, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes again. "I won't - I'm not going to do that again. Next time I get scared I'll come to you and tell you. We can talk about it."

"No," said Finn. "You'll come to me, tell me what's bothering you, and _I'll _tell you what we're going to do about it." He kissed Kurt's chin, his cheek, his nose. "You got it?"

"Y-yes," said Kurt.

"Say yes, sir," prompted Puck.

"Um," said Kurt. "Yes, sir?"

Puck nudged his sore ass with one hip. "Try again, and look into his eyes this time."

"You guys are going to - okay, okay! Jesus." He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, opened them again, and looked up at Finn, into his brown eyes. They were warm and inviting and he never wanted to look anywhere else again. "Yes, sir," he said softly.

"That's my sweet baby," Finn murmured, smiling his pleasure, and Kurt's insides melted. Puck hugged him. Kurt's eyes rolled up and he groaned with satisfaction.

"I'm surrounded by two of the sexiest boys in the universe, and I have no pants on," Kurt said. "No – this is definitely not my life. I must be dreaming."

"You're the dream," said Puck, in one ear.

"And you came true," said Finn, in the other.


	17. Chapter 17

(Author's note: I'm having a hard time switching back and forth between my Donutverse Puck and my Road Trip Puck... I may have to focus on one to the exclusion of the other for a while.)

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><p>When Carole walked into the house, she heard what sounded like rhythmic chanting coming from the kitchen. She set down her tennis racket and bag and walked curiously to the door, listening.<p>

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she heard Puck mutter, "fuckity fuck fuck... _fuck."_

Stifling a smile, she knocked softly on the door frame and poked her head in the kitchen. "Having trouble?"

Puck was seated at the table, surrounded by food in various stages of preparation. Everything was sliced, chopped and neatly organized in stacked bowls. A wickedly sharp chef's knife lay on the cutting board by the stove, on which a pot was simmering. Delicious smells of ginger and cinnamon wafted from the oven. The dishwasher was running and there was a small pile of rinsed dishes in the sink.

On the table were four different kitchen timers, counting down the minutes. Each one had a sticky note on it: _soup 1:30, crostini 1:45, cupcakes oven 1:55, potatoes 2:15._ He looked up wildly from the papers he was shuffling. "Oh - Mrs. Hudson," he said apologetically. "I'm sorry, did I - you heard -"

"Yeah," she said. "I heard."

"Sorry," he said again, crumpling the paper he held in his hand and looking at the floor.

"It's okay." She rubbed her lips in amusement. "I've heard that word before once or twice."

"If my mom heard me say it, I'd be eating that bar of soap." He pointed vaguely at the sink.

Carole put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I don't work that way. I figure if you're saying it, there's got to be a reason." She sat at the table across from him. "So what is it?"

He threw the crumpled papers down and rested his head in his hands, sighing. "The menu. My sister typed it up and made it look all fancy, but she said some of the words were spelled wrong and she couldn't figure out how to fix them. I... I'm not a very good speller," he added in a low voice.

"No shame in that," Carole said.

"But they're definitely wrong and I'm - I need to fix them. Everything needs to be perfect." He sighed again. "It's taking me forever to look up all the words. I'm going to get behind on prep, and that's going to throw off timing for everything else."

"I'm sure it's fine," she soothed. "Can I see?"

He hesitated a moment before handing over a copy of the menu, then busied himself chopping mushrooms while she read it, clearly not watching her on purpose.

Puck had been right; it was riddled with errors. Carole wasn't sure about the correct spelling of "amuse bouche," but the rest she thought she could handle. "Puck, do you have this file on the computer?" she said.

"No, but I could get Sarah to email it to me," he said.

She waved the paper in the air. "Why don't I just take this and retype it? I'll make it look just like this, and I'll fix all the errors."

"Mrs. Hudson, you really don't have to do that," he protested, but she shook her head and smiled.

"It's no trouble. I want to help. You're going through all this work for us, and I'd feel good doing something to help out. Would you please let me?"

Puck chewed on one finger, watching her face warily. She was suddenly struck with a memory of a younger Puck - _Noah, then_ - standing in this very kitchen, years ago, waiting to have his leg bandaged following a particularly heinous cut. It must have been before middle school, because he and Finn had still been on the kickball team together. Finn made him come in and ask for help when the cut wouldn't stop bleeding, but he'd stoically held back tears even when she cleaned it with peroxide and held it together with steri-strips. _He'd always had a hard time accepting help,_ feeling a rush of affection for him as he'd been, the boy in her kitchen, and for the young man now cooking her son dinner.

"Please?" she said again.

"All right," he said, clearly reluctant. Then he took his finger out of his mouth, blushing, and went to wash his hands.

"I'll be right back with this," she promised. Then, on an impulse, she went to stand behind him at the sink, putting her hands on his shoulders. His muscles were tense and he jumped a little at her touch.

"Puck, since you were a boy, it's like you've been part of this family," she said. "That hasn't changed. I care for you, just as Finn - cares for you." He looked down, embarrassed, and she squeezed his shoulders. "It's not so different, is it?"

"I guess not," he said, quietly. He looked out the window above the sink, and she followed his gaze out to the backyard, where the old rusty swing set still stood, overgrown with weeds. It had been the site of many afternoons of Finn and Noah's play, when Ruth had gone back to nursing school and he and little Sarah would come to Finn's house after school, staying with Carole until Ruth could pick them up for dinner. They went to Noah's house on other days, when Carole was working late.

"It's... more, though," Puck said, and Carole had to retrace their conversation to realize what he was talking about. "It's... bigger than it was. It's..." He hesitated. "It's the most important thing I've ever done," he said in a rush. He didn't look away from the swing set. "I don't want to mess it up."

"Do you love him?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," he said. "I love both of them."

She felt a shiver, witnessing this declaration, knowing it to be significant. "Well, you probably have heard grownups tell you to be careful. That young love is changeable. You might not feel the same in another month. Just... take it easy, okay? I don't want either of you to get hurt. Any of you."

Puck picked up a plastic Babylon 5 spaceship ornament from the windowsill by the sink. "Remember when I gave this to Finn for Hannukah - I mean, Christmas? The Primus class battlecruiser." He handled it carefully. "That was in sixth grade. He was so excited." He looked back at Carole. "I loved him then, too, you know."

She felt tears come to her eyes at his earnestness and complete sincerity. "I know," she said, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"It's never going to go away," he said.

She sighed. "I believe you, honey. It's just not always enough to love someone. This thing you've chosen - it's complicated."

"It's worth it," Puck said.

One of the timers went off, and Puck moved to take the lid off the soup and stir it with a long wooden spoon. He put the lid in the sink. "Thanks for your help with the menu, Mrs. Hudson," he said. "You don't have to... can we not tell Finn and Kurt about it?" He looked at her hopefully.

"That's fine," she said. "I'll go type this up and be right back. Maybe you could use another pair of hands with your prep after that? I can chop and... and debone or whatever else you need."

He smiled. "Sweet." Then he dipped up a bit of the soup on his spoon. "Here, try this."

She smiled back, taking a sip of his creation. It tasted like tomatoes and thyme. "It's delicious, Puck," she said, and left him to his labor of love.


	18. Chapter 18

(Author's note: if you want recipes for any of these, let me know, but you can probably find them online. I'm not a chef, but I really like to eat.)

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><p>It didn't take long for Carole to retype the menu and correct the spelling mistakes, but she spent a little more time fiddling with the fonts and alignment and making it look pretty.<p>

**Hudson/Hummel/Puckerman Dinner**

_November 7, 2009, 6 pm_

_Noah Puckerman, chef de cuisine_

hors d'oeuvres (on the deck, 5:30 pm)

avocado mousse crostini with hazelnut oil

gorgonzola-stuffed dates with toasted almonds

turkey pastrami rollups

amuse bouche

chilled tomato soup with fresh ginger root

first course

sweet potato slice with shrimp and garlic cream sauce

salad course

mesclun, shiitake and hazelnut salad

meat course

beef tenderloin stuffed with morels and shallot dressing with potato rose garnish

OR

sauteed tilapia with white wine and lemon sauce

palate cleanser

green tea sorbet

dessert

gingerbread cupcakes with cardamom cream cheese frosting

truffles and coffee

She found some blue paper with a cloud background and printed out seven copies. On the way back down to the kitchen, she tapped on Finn's door. He opened up amid too-loud Boston and a pile of papers that looked like algebra. "Yeah, mom?" he said, turning down the music.

"Puck's working his butt off in the kitchen," she said. "I'm going to give him a hand."

He stared at her. "He's going to let you?"

"Sure; why not?"

"He's very picky about that kind of help. The only other person who gets to do any kind of creative work is Sarah. Every now and then he lets me make a sauce or something, but usually he tells me to get lost. So I'm just trying to stay out of his way."

She stacked the papers in her hand, hiding them from his curious gaze. "Well, I offered, and he said yes."

"Wow." He scratched his head. "That's... huh. I guess he wants to make you happy."

"Hmm. It's working," she said. "Finn, I wanted to remind you how much I care for - have always cared for - Puck. The fact that he's now your... your boyfriend doesn't change that."

Finn reddened at the word _boyfriend,_ and his lips tipped up in a decidedly dreamy smile. Carole laughed, surprised, and Finn ducked his head, hiding his face from her. "Oh, honey, don't - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"It's okay." Finn cleared away his math papers and made room for her on the bed. He shook his head. "It's still kind of, uh, new."

She put a hand on his back. "To hear Puck talk about it, it's been going on for a long time."

He hunched over his knees and sighed. "I feel like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner. But... god. I mean, who would have thought... _Puck?_ Liking guys? He's, like, the biggest homophobe. Well, except for Karofsky." Finn paused, struck with a thought, then shook his head. "Naaah."

"Puck has always been pretty comfortable with being himself, being a little outside the box. I'm not sure if this is any different."

"Yeah." Finn twisted his fingers together. "Puck doesn't seem to care what this means about him, about who he is. But I do. I want to be... brave, like Kurt. You know, come out. Be myself, be... gay, in front of everyone, the school. But I don't know if I can do it."

"What are you most afraid would happen? I mean, can you think of the worst thing?" She was almost afraid to consider it, herself.

"When everyone learned that Quinn was pregnant, it was like open season. We got slushied - and not just for that. It was like everyone used that opening as a weakness to knock us down for all the other ways in which we're different. Kurt... deals with that all the time." Finn looked at his mom, the strain evident on his face. "He gets beat up sometimes and he hides it from his dad."

She filed that away for future reference. "Are you afraid you're going to get beat up?"

"No!" He gritted his teeth. "I'm afraid _Kurt and Puck_ are going to get beat up because of this. I don't care about me."

Carole hugged Finn and tried not to cry. "I bet they don't want you to get beat up, either. _I _certainly don't."

"Mom, I can take care of myself. And I don't care what people think about me. I mean, I do, but it's more important that people know the real me. The person I really am."

"I'm guessing your friends in Glee will accept you, no matter what. But this... relationship is... unusual. It's going to take everyone a little time to get past their own fears and hangups." She smiled ruefully. "Me, too."

"I guess you're right." He leaned his head on her shoulder. "Mom, you've been so... _good_ to us. You treat us like we're, you know, normal. Kurt and Puck both think you're amazing. I wanted you to know that."

Carole allowed herself to bask, just for a moment, in the pride and love she felt for Finn. "Amazing is a tall order. I'll try to live up to it." She nudged him with her shoulder. "You're pretty amazing, yourself, kiddo."

"And Burt, Kurt's dad, is the coolest. I think you guys are going to get along great. But... I'm worried about Puck's Ma. I guess she said some mean things to Kurt last night. Puck isn't feeling good about having her come over tonight. He's stressing out."

"I can understand that," Carole said slowly, thinking of Ruth. They'd never been friends, exactly, but they'd known each other for a long time, and Carole knew she loved Puck. "I could call her and talk to her ahead of time, see if we can sort some things out."

"I don't know if that would help. I guess there's all this stuff about him giving her grandchildren." Finn shook his head. "She's jumping ahead too far. It's not like we're... getting married or something."

Carole thought of Puck's declaration of devotion to Finn in the kitchen, but she didn't say anything. "I don't think you need to think about that right now. You're sophomores; you've got all kinds of other things to consider. Your PSATs are coming up in the spring. Basketball... and I guess competitions for Glee, right? And there's college applications, and... and prom..."

They looked at each other with twin expressions of horror, and started laughing at the same time. "Oh my god," she said, putting a hand over her mouth. "Prom."

"I think you should just shoot me now," Finn said grimly, and fell back on the bed.

* * *

><p>When Carole stepped into the kitchen this time, Puck was neatly slicing potatoes and listening intently to something on his headphones. She got his attention and waited for him to pause the music and wipe his hands on his apron (which had a picture of a gingerbread man with a bite taken out of it, and the words <em>Gimme some sugar)<em> before she handed him the stack of menus. He looked at them, then smiled up at her.

"These look awesome," he said with excitement. "Thank you." He touched the words _Noah Puckerman, chef de cuisine._ "Wow. It looks so official."

Carole picked up a beautiful rose-shaped garnish. "This is beautiful, Puck. Did you make this?" He nodded. "What is it made of?"

"It's potato, sliced really thin, overlapping, and rolled up." He indicated a pile of potato slices ready to be rolled. "See? Easy. Once I'm done with the salad dressing, I'll make some more."

"This is an astounding effort, Puck," she said. "All of it. You should be proud of yourself."

"I'll be proud once you eat it." He carefully set the menus on top of the fridge, away from the bubbling pots. "And if I can make it through dessert without hurling," he added.

"Well, I'm here to help." She opened her hands. "Though Finn tells me you'd really rather I not. You can tell me to get lost if you'd prefer to do it yourself."

He looked sheepish. "I'm - kind of a control freak about the kitchen," he said.

"You don't have to let me help just to make me feel important. I can just go do something else until dinner."

"No - wait." Puck sounded almost desperate. "I... I want you to stay. I just don't know what to ask you to do."

"I could just sit here and keep you company." She pointed to the headphones. "If you'd rather listen to music, that's fine too."

"Oh - I was listening to a book for English class. _All the King's Men._" He got the book out of his backpack and handed it to her. "You read it?"

"A long time ago," she said. "I don't think Finn's read it yet. What do you think so far?"

"It's really good," Puck said glumly. "But I'm a crappy reader, so it's taking me forever. My sister's the same way. We just can't stick with a book long enough to get through it. Listening to someone else read it is a lot easier."

"Huh." She thought about the spelling mistakes in his menu. "Have you ever been tested for dyslexia?"

"No," he said, deftly smashing, peeling and chopping cloves of garlic and throwing them into a bowl. "What's that?"

"Some people have trouble reading because their brains don't process the words the same way as everyone else does," she said. "The words might appear backwards, or get all mixed up. That's not quite right, but it's something like that."

"That happens to me," he said. "I usually have to think hard about how the letters fit together before the words make sense." He took some fresh tarragon out of a plastic bag and chopped it fine, then threw it in the bowl as well. "Math is easy, but I just can't do the reading thing."

"Well, I could read to you while you work, if you want."

Puck stopped chopping and glanced at her uncertainly. "You would?"

"Sure," she said. "I'm not as good as the audiobook, probably, but it would be fun."

"I... I was thinking about that," he said, his eyes far away. "Finn and Kurt... reading to me." He shook his head, scraping the garlic scraps into the trash with a neat swipe of the back of his knife, then picked up a sharpening steel and gave the knife a few strokes before setting it aside. "Stupid."

"Not at all," she said. "It sounds lovely."

"Guys like me don't get lovely," said Puck in a flat voice.

"I beg your pardon?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you really going to say that to your boyfriend's mother?"

Puck opened his mouth and stared at her. "I didn't mean..."

"I'm definitely biased, but I think he's pretty lovely," she said, turning to the page marked with a much-folded piece of paper. "And Kurt? Lovely doesn't begin to cover it."

"Um, Mrs. Hudson, I'm a little uncomfortable with this conversation," he said, and she grinned, relenting.

"Okay, okay. Where should I start?"

She'd made it through a chapter and a half, and Puck was straining the hot tea-sugar water for the sorbet, when Finn ventured into the kitchen a while later. He stood and listened in silence for a few minutes, then got an apple from the fruit basket and sat next to his mom at the table, watching Puck work with an absorbed expression.

Carole kept reading, pausing every now and then to explain an unfamiliar word or check to make sure Puck had gotten a literary allusion. She was somewhat surprised to find he was a thoughtful listener, and made connections to events that had happened earlier in the book.

Puck paused in his assembly line of layering pastrami, lettuce, horseradish and cream cheese. "It seems like Willie thinks it doesn't matter how bad he is, as long as things come out okay in the end." He looked at Finn. "I guess I can understand that."

"It's called moral relativism," said Carole. "He's willing to deal with underhanded tactics and corruption in order to get what he wants for the poor people of the state."

"But that's not good for him," said Finn, swallowing a bite of apple. "I mean, being a bad man makes you feel bad inside, in the end."

"His wife Lucy would agree with you, don't you think?" said Carole.

Finn took another bite and thought about this. "Well, yeah, but she's also on his side. That seems right to me. I think your spouse is supposed to stick by you, no matter what."

"Even if you're a jerk?" said Puck softly.

"Yeah," said Finn, with certainty. Puck's eyes on him were adoring, and Carole busied herself with reading ahead in the chapter, not watching their heated exchange of glances.

"Is this getting in the way of your prep schedule, Puck?" she asked. "We can clear out if you need more room."

"I'm doing fine," he assured her. "If you guys don't mind. I mean, this is really nice." He gave her a shy grin. "Nobody's read to me for… well, in a long time."

"Finn could do that," she offered, and Finn looked at her, surprised. "You're a good reader, honey. It could help Puck."

"Do you want me to do that?" Finn said, looking at Puck.

Puck turned to the stove, avoiding his eyes. "Um... sure. Yeah. I'd like that. If it's not too much trouble."

"Dude. You're not any _trouble." _Finn shook his head. "You always help me in math." He grinned at his mom. "Puck gets good grades in math even without showing up."

"You probably shouldn't tell your old mom how you cut class," she said, grinning back. "Plausible deniability, you know."

"I hate sitting through math, so I don't," said Puck, tossing his spatula in the air and catching it after two turns. "I get A's on the tests; I get zeros in my homework and attendance grades. I end up with C's. Works out fine."

"Wouldn't it be better to go to class and get A's?" she said.

"Why?" He poured some olive oil into the skillet on the stove and tipped the skillet, spreading the oil evenly on the bottom of the pan. "I'm not going to college. I just have to pass."

"Puck, you're smart enough to go to college," Carole said, but Finn shook his head.

"Don't bother," he said. "We've had this conversation a hundred times."

"Why would I choose _more_ school when I _hate _school? School is for suckers." He glanced at Carole over his shoulder. "Sorry."

"College gets you out of Lima," said Finn. Carole felt an increasingly familiar pain at the idea that someday, in the not too distant future, Finn would be moving away.

"You know that's never going to happen for me," Puck said.

"You could go to culinary school," Carole suggested. Puck paused in sautéing the mushrooms and considered the idea.

"Where is that?" he said.

"Mostly in big cities. You can find them everywhere, though. I bet Dayton and Cincinnati have them."

"Hey, yeah," said Finn, excitedly. "Maybe if I get a scholarship for football somewhere, Kurt and I could go to college at the same place and you could find a cul… a culin… a cooking school. We could get an apartment together."

"Maybe," Puck said, blinking. "Huh."

Carole marveled at the incongruity between Finn's earlier words - _it's not like we're getting married, or anything -_ and these impulsive dreams for his future with Puck and Kurt, but she didn't say anything.

"Miss Pillsbury said I should consider music scholarships, too," Finn went on. "She said they're way easier to get than sports scholarships."

"We're going to have to look at that paperwork soon," Carole said. "There are forms we need to fill out, and we won't want to miss any deadlines."

Puck was silent, finely slicing morels and piling them into a bowl. Then he said, "I bet Kurt wants to do Broadway or something."

Finn looked at Puck and chewed on his lip. "I... I have no idea what his plans are." His excitement was gone. "We haven't talked about it."

"You haven't been close friends for very long, after all," said Carole. _You're just kids,_ she didn't add, because she knew how much it had bothered her to have someone tell her that when she was sixteen.

Finn nodded, eyes downcast. "We need to talk about it, though."

"Talk about what?" said Kurt from the door of the kitchen, and the sudden look of joy and excitement on both boys' faces made Carole's heart hurt. She couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at her that way.

Kurt had dressed for an evening out, in grey tails over red velvet pants, a cream silk shirt and patterned scarf, with a tiny little top hat in red and grey brocade. Carole couldn't figure out how it stayed on, but it didn't budge, even when Puck almost knocked Kurt over with a hug.

Carole blinked, seeing Kurt and Puck staring, clearly lovestruck, into each other's eyes. Puck stroked Kurt's face and said something quietly in his ear, making Kurt blush. She glanced at Finn, but not only was he not bothered, he looked positively happy to see them together. _I think I'm beginning to understand, _she thought.

"Kurt, you look fantastic," Carole said, nudging Finn.

"Oh, uh, yeah," said Finn. "That hat is awesome."

"My dad took me shopping at our usual vintage places," said Kurt, twirling for inspection, his tails flying out. "I had to commemorate our special occasion." He smiled at Carole. "Every moment is an opportunity for fashion." She nodded, considering her own six-year-old hairstyle and jeans with a rip in the knee, and resolved to take Kurt with her the next time she needed to buy an outfit.

"Is your dad here?" Carole asked. Kurt shook his head.

"He had to do a little work at the garage before dinner," he said, "but he'll be here by five-thirty."

"Mrs. Hudson's been reading _All the King's Men_ to me while I cooked," Puck said, like she'd given him a chocolate cake. Carole grinned.

"Noah and I are reading that for fourth period English, with Mrs. Rasmussen," said Kurt, seating himself at the table next to Finn, who immediately took his hand and briefly pressed his lips to his fingers. Kurt looked flustered, but he didn't reclaim his hand.

"Shall I continue?" she offered, and Puck nodded. Finn let Kurt's hand go and put an arm around him instead. Carole had noticed they always liked to be touching in some way when they were together. Kurt leaned against Finn, tucked under his arm. Now Carole watched Puck to see how he would react, and in much the same way as Finn had, Puck seemed pleased to see Finn and Kurt together. _They were just right,_ she thought suddenly. _They all fit, each of them, two at a time, but the three together, was - just right._

With a whole heart, and the three boys listening with rapt attention, she went on reading.


	19. Chapter 19

(Author's note: And now, the angst begins. Please hang in there. They will all be okay.)

* * *

><p>Burt found himself hesitating outside the Hudson house with uncommon anxiety. He considered taking the wine back to the car, but finally decided it was okay. <em>It wasn't like he was giving it to the kids to get blitzed,<em> he thought. _It was for the grownups. _Ruth, and - what was her name? - Carole, that was it. Three grownups. Three kids. _Jesus Christ. _

It wasn't that he didn't like Finn, or Puck. He liked them both, a lot. Surprisingly a lot, considering their history with Kurt. He'd never gotten details out of him, but he knew they'd originally been part of the slushie-and-dumpster patrol. All he could get Kurt to tell him was, "Finn used to help me take my jacket off before he dumped me in," and "Puck got locked in a portapotty for 24 hours once, so he doesn't do that anymore."

_And now, two months later, all three of them are making out in the basement on the green couch. _ Burt heaved a sigh. _Well, it's not as though that couch doesn't have a legacy._ It had been in their family since before Kurt was born, after all.

He'd been waiting for Kurt to come out since he was three years old, but even after he finally did, it wasn't easy to contemplate him... _like that,_ with another boy. But the reality of Kurt with Finn, and Puck, wasn't so bad. Finn and Puck were guys he could understand. They were honorable, decent kids. They liked sports. And they clearly adored Kurt, which was top of Burt's list of requirements, right under _healthy_ and _sane._ In the end, what did it matter that they were guys? Or that he was dating two of them? Kurt was happy, more than Burt had ever seen him.

He took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and rang the doorbell.

A woman with reddish hair answered the door. She smiled and held out her hand. "You must be Burt," she said. "I'm Carole."

"Hey," he said, shaking her hand. She had a solid grip, which he appreciated. And a pretty smile. "That's a nice dress," he said. "I always thought acid wash should make a comeback."

Her smile broadened. "Hmm, really? And who said it ever left?"

He was surprised into a laugh, and just stood there for a moment, holding her hand on the porch. "Do you want to come in?" she said finally.

"Uh. Yeah," he said. "Here, this is for you." He handed her the bottle of wine. "I figured we might need a little, you know. Lubrication."

She covered a snort of laughter with her hand, and he turned bright red. "Um," he said. "I really didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I know what you meant," she said, clearly amused. "I'm more the Rolling Rock type, but thanks for thinking of us. And I bet you're right. This is going to be a tough evening for everyone. I'll put this on ice." She walked into the kitchen, still laughing.

Burt took off his hat and ran a hand over his bald head. _Stupid,_ he thought. _God. What an idiot you are._

"Dad!" Kurt came out of the kitchen and captured him in a hug. Burt held him out at arm's length so he could see the ensemble for which they'd spent three hours shopping, and nodded in approval.

"I still think the other scarf was better," he said. "And I completely do not get this tiny hat thing. But you look great."

"Thanks, Dad." Kurt smiled at him fondly. "You do, too. Thanks for agreeing to the tie."

"Yeah, it's fine," he said, waving it off. "I know this means a lot to you."

"Do you?" Kurt bit his lip. "God, I can't even tell you how much."

"I think I got it, son," he said. "It's going to be fine."

Finn came down the stairs, and Burt nodded and shook his hand. "Hey, Finn," he said. They were on hugging terms, but Burt didn't want to embarrass him in front of his mom.

"Hi, Burt," said Finn. Burt was pleased to see Finn had dressed up too; he took that as a sign that Finn understood how important that was to Kurt. Finn cut a dashing figure in a vintage sport coat and tie with khakis and loafers (with no socks).

Kurt walked up to him and touched his jacket with one hand. "Nice," he said softly. "Your dad's. I remember."

"Yeah," Finn said, almost sadly, and kissed Kurt on the cheek.

Burt cleared his throat. "Where's Puck?"

"Getting dressed," said Finn. "He said we should head out to the deck for some hors d'oeuvres."

"He's been working all day on this meal," Kurt said, adjusting his hat. "I'm totally impressed. The potato roses alone were enough to make my knees go weak."

"So he just - what? Likes to cook?" Burt asked.

"His Ma went back to nursing school when we were kids," explained Finn, leading the way through the family room to the back deck. The evening was warm for November, and citronella candles held the mosquitoes at bay. "He learned how to cook dinner for him and his little sister and his older brother."

"Wait - Puck has a brother?" Kurt shot Finn a look.

"Yeah, an older brother. He's not around anymore." Finn shrugged, but Burt sensed tension in the words, and he reminded himself to talk to Puck about it later.

There were three platters of hors d'oeuvres laid out on the picnic table. One, a meat-cheese rollup on a toothpick, looked familiar enough that Burt felt safe tasting it without knowing what was in it. He popped one into his mouth and chewed. _Mmm._ "So he learned how to do all this stuff, what, just on his own?" he said, after he'd swallowed, and took another.

"Pretty much," Finn said. "He watches cooking shows all the time. He said he learned how to read and do math by figuring out recipes."

"That kid," Burt said, shaking his head. "Damn. Hey, did you try those truffles?"

Finn nodded, grinning. "Pretty incredible. He made some for tonight's last course."

Carole came out carrying two glasses of wine and handed one to Burt. "Your Penzoil, sir," she said, and Burt smothered a laugh and took it. "Boys," she said to Finn and Kurt, "there's a bottle of _non-alcoholic _wine in the fridge."

"I'll pour," said Kurt. "Thanks, Carole."

"Okay," she said, pointing to the green appetizers. "These are, um -" she checked a piece of blue paper she was holding "- avocado mousse crostini with hazelnut oil, and these -" she indicated the brown ovals "- are dates stuffed with gorgonzola cheese and toasted almonds."

"Huh." Burt reached down and took a brown oval. It was a little squishy. He shrugged. "Here goes." He bit into it, and was immediately assaulted by a perfect blend of sweet and salty. "God," he blurted. "It's like kettle corn, only a hundred times better."

"I know, right?" said Finn, grinning. "Who knew something so ugly could taste so awesome? I had five of them before they even left the kitchen. Puck had to cut me off."

"I hear these are a little spicy," Carole said, picking up a crostini mounded with avocado and taking a bite. "Wow," she said through the mouthful. "I can really taste the hazelnuts. My question is, how did he get the avocado to stay perfectly green?"

"I sprayed it with lime juice," said Puck, stepping out from the house. "Any kind of acid will do, but I like the taste of the lime."

Puck was nattily dressed in a white tux shirt, forest green vest, black bow tie, black tuxedo pants - and combat boots. Even Burt could comfortably say that Puck looked very handsome. Burt watched Kurt's jaw drop, eyes widen and breath catch. He knew what that meant. "Watch the drool, Kurt," he murmured, and Kurt closed his mouth.

Puck walked to Burt and held out his hand. "Thanks for coming, Burt," he said, with a charming smile, and when Burt took it, he pulled him into a hug. _Smooth,_ thought Burt, clapping Puck on the shoulder. Carole didn't even bother to pretend to shake his hand; she just hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Nice work," Burt said, indicating the appetizers. "Everything is delicious."

"And beautiful," said Carole. "You've outdone yourself."

"Don't fill up," said Puck. "There's lots more coming." He looked at Carole and Burt, face calm and open. "I wanted to tell you two how much I appreciate you being here. Carole - thank you for opening your home to us. Not just tonight, for this dinner, but every day since Finn and I became friends. It's always felt like a home to me. That didn't change after Kurt joined us. You accepted us from the first day, and I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Carole was speechless. She took Puck by both hands and squeezed them, smiling, not bothering to wipe away the tears that slid down her cheeks. Burt watched them together and felt a lump form in his throat. _She loves him like a son,_ he thought. _I can see why._

"Burt," Puck said, turning to him, "I haven't known you for very long, but I've been completely impressed by you and your willingness to trust us, two guys you barely know, with Kurt. You are fair, and kind, and if I can be half as good a dad as you are, someday, I'll be satisfied."

Burt contemplated Puck with skepticism. _You know what they say, _he thought; _if it seems too good to be true, it probably is._ But he smiled at Puck and said, "Puck, you've proven yourself a trustworthy friend to Kurt and a honest, hardworking assistant at the garage. I'm thinking that's a good start to a relationship. If Kurt cares about you, I've got no complaints."

Puck nodded, appreciatively. Then he stepped in the house and brought out his guitar, which he carried over to the empty chair on the far side of the deck. He sat down, tuning quickly and slipping into a quiet instrumental. "Just a little mood music while we wait for the last guest to show," he said.

Burt noticed Finn staring at Puck with disbelief, and possibly a touch of drool of his own. Kurt looked, strangely, as proud as though Puck were his own son. Burt watched Finn lean down to Kurt and quietly ask something like, "How did he do that?" Kurt reached up and whispered something into Finn's ear, and Finn choked and turned scarlet. Now Kurt looked smug, and Finn a tiny bit jealous. "Nicely done," he said, and Kurt shrugged modestly.

"You can do it next time," Kurt said, and Finn grinned at him.

"Deal," he said, putting an arm around his waist.

Burt had no idea what the exchange had been about, but he could sense the comfortable dynamic between Finn and Kurt had returned. Whatever had been going on between them on Friday night had been resolved, and Burt was glad to see it.

He turned to Carole, about to mention his observation, when the doorbell rang. Puck paused for just one second in his playing, then resumed, looking cool and collected.

"Excuse me," said Carole, and stepped back into the house. Burt laid claim to one of the last incredible gorgonzola cheese dates - it went very well with the white wine he'd brought - and watched his son make eyes at the Hudson kid with a remarkable sense of calm. _This is going to be okay._

Then he heard two - no, three? - voices shouting inside the house, and the guitar cut off with a discordant jangle of strings. Puck carefully set the guitar down on the deck and walked into the house; Burt followed him.

"Just calm down, Ruth," Carole was saying to the disheveled, red-faced woman standing in her foyer. She put a hand on her arm, but the woman, Ruth, shook it off defiantly.

"You of all people have no right to tell me to _calm down,_" Ruth hissed at Carole, "when it was _your son_ that turned my Noah into a faggot."

"Ma, stop it," said a small, young voice, and Burt's eyes were drawn to a girl standing behind Ruth. She was slight and slim, but had a strength of presence and Puck's expressive hazel eyes.

"Sarah, I told you to wait in the car," said Ruth in a tight voice.

"No fucking way," said Sarah, more calmly than Burt would have believed possible in the face of such anger. "You shouldn't be here like this." She turned to Carole with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hudson - I couldn't let her come over alone, not like this - I couldn't stop her from driving, even though I knew she -"

"It's okay, Sarah," said Carole, shaking her head a little. "It's good to see you. You're welcome any time." She looked meaningfully at her. "Any time."

Sarah took her mother by the hand and dragged her into the bathroom. "Come on, Ma. Let's get you cleaned up."

Burt came up beside Carole and put a hand on the small of her back. "Should I call the cops? Is she going to get violent?"

Carole blew out her breath and leaned into Burt's hand a little. "No," she said. "Ruth's not violent. She's just... well. She's mean." She tipped her eyes up to Burt's, painfully. "She apparently wasn't very kind to your son last night."

"She - what?" Burt raised his voice a little. "What happened?"

Puck stepped into the hallway, followed by Kurt and Finn. He looked a little pale, even through his dark complexion, but he was calm. "I told my mom about Finn and Kurt," he said, sounding tired. Finn put a hand on his shoulder, and Kurt moved in to hold his hand. He seemed to draw strength from their presence. "She didn't like it very much. She - lashed out at Kurt. He stood up for me." He looked down at Kurt's steady face. "You would have been proud of him."

Feeling the rage drain from him, leaving him dizzy, Burt went over to Kurt and put both hands on his cheeks. "Did she hurt you?" he demanded.

"No, Dad," he said. "Nobody was physically harmed." His eyes grew flinty. "But it was abuse, just the same."

"Kurt." Puck shook his head. "Please. It's not going to help."

"Nobody deserves what she did to you," Kurt spat. Burt saw the fierce love in Kurt's eyes. Burt recognized it. It was just what he felt for Kurt, himself.

"Well, I don't know if I can sit down to dinner with a person who's directly attacked a member of my family," said Burt. "I just don't know if I can do it."

"Ruth needs to be here, just as we do," Carole said. "She's Puck's mother. She needs to be part of this conversation. Just - take it easy with her. She usually comes around to reason, in her own circuitous way."

"Okay," announced Sarah, coming in the room, holding her mother's hand. Ruth looked somewhat sullen, but subdued. "Ma?" she prodded.

"I'm - sorry," Ruth said, not making eye contact with anyone. "For being so rude. I'll try to be more... calm." Then she did look up, at Carole. Her eyes were pleading. "I'm trying my best, Carole, but it's not easy."

"I know," Carole said. Burt felt like he could see her actively forgiving the woman for what she'd said. _Remarkable,_ he thought, and he calmed down a tiny bit.

Carole turned to Puck. "Can we - is it time to eat, Puck?"

"Yes," he said. "Hey, squirt - " he said, to Sarah, and she sighed and nodded.

"I know. You don't have a spot for me."

"I was going to say you can have mine."

"No way! You get to eat, too."

He shook his head and looked at his mother, as Carole led her into the dining room. "There's no way I could eat anything right now. You go ahead." Sarah nodded, unhappily.

Puck was last into the dining room, and he put a hand on Burt, who paused and looked at Puck steadily. "I'm sorry," Puck said.

"For?" Burt asked.

"For everything my Ma's going to say tonight that's going to offend you. 'Cause I'm sure there'll be something." He breathed a painful sigh. "I'm ashamed she's even here."

"Puck, you're a good kid. Don't make this about you."

"That's really nice to hear, Burt, but I don't think it makes up for it." He shook his head. "I wish - "

"Forget that," said Burt. "You made this goddamn amazing dinner, for all of us. You brought us together here. We're going to eat it."

Puck bowed his head, nodded once, and sighed again. He seemed a little clearer, a little less muddled. "Thanks, Burt."

The hug Burt should have given Finn when he walked in the door came out now, for Puck. He held him tight, felt him shaking. "This is your show, Puck," Burt said softly against his shoulder. "Kurt and Finn - they love you. I can see it. And I'm pretty sure you deserve it."

"I can't - I can't believe that," Puck said, just this side of tears.

"Well, that's your problem, I guess," said Burt. "But they do. Maybe that can be enough?"

Puck looked down the hall at the dining room, and smiled, a tentative possibility of a smile. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe it is."


	20. Chapter 20

(Author's note: I needed to fit one more scene in to make some of the later stuff work, so… this is largely just discipline and sex, so if you want to skip it entirely, go right ahead.

Some of you commented about how sweet and collected Puck was in the last chapter. This scene is a vignette, set prior to chapter 19 (hors d'oeuvres on the deck) that explains in more, um, detail how Puck might have gotten to such a state of calm and expressive eloquence with Carole and Burt. You saw this exchange:

_Burt noticed Finn staring at Puck with disbelief, and possibly a touch of drool of his own. Kurt looked, strangely, as proud as though Puck were his own son. Burt watched Finn lean in to Kurt and quietly ask something like, "How did he do that?" Kurt reached up and whispered something into Finn's ear, and Finn choked and turned scarlet. Now Kurt looked smug, and Finn a tiny bit jealous. "Nicely done," he said, and Kurt shrugged modestly._

"_You can do it next time," Kurt said, and Finn grinned at him. _

"_Deal," he said, putting an arm around his waist. _

Here's what happened upstairs before the party. Enjoy. –amy)

* * *

><p>"How do you work so long without a break?" Kurt asked, when Puck came out of the bathroom. "You've been on your feet all morning."<p>

"Bladder of steel," Puck grinned. "Oh, and awesome shoes. My Ma's a nurse, you know, and they have the shoe secret in the bag."

Kurt took his hand and led him down the hall to Finn's room. Puck, followed, bemused. "I have to finish the tilapia sauce," he said.

"You can wait ten minutes," said Kurt.

"But I don't want the mushrooms for the steak to over-marinate," Puck objected. "Let me just –"

"Ten minutes," said Kurt. "Okay?"

Puck looked uneasy, and the tension was evident on his forehead, but he finally nodded. "Okay."

Kurt brought him into the room in silence. Puck sat on the bed and watched as Kurt locked the door. He swallowed and looked up at Kurt uncertainly. "Did – did I do something wrong?"

Kurt shook his head, running his hand over Puck's head and face. Puck leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, sighing. "Not exactly. But you're not taking good care of yourself." He gently touched the soft skin under Puck's eyes. "Did you get _any_ sleep last night?"

"Uh…" Puck looked guilty. "Maybe an hour. I came home from Finn's a little after 3, and then I was writing the menu…"

"Mmmm. What did you eat today?"

Puck thought. "Uh," he said, a little desperately.

"That's what I figured," Kurt nodded. "When's the last time you worked out? Went for a jog? Or picked up your weights? I know these can't have happened without a little effort." Kurt ran a hand over Puck's sculpted biceps.

Puck bit his lip. "I've been… busy."

"I know. But you can't completely lose yourself in your work, or your play. It's not healthy." He tipped Puck's chin up and made him meet his eyes. "Understand?"

"I'll try," Puck protested. "But it's hard. I've got too much to do."

Kurt shook his head, pursing his lips. "Noah," he said. "That won't cut it. You forgot already how to ask for help? That Finn and I are here for you?"

"You guys have enough to think about without worrying about me." Puck let his eyes drop.

Kurt made a frustrated noise, and finally grabbed Puck's ear, hauling his head back up. Puck's head snapped up. "Ow! Hey, that hurts! …What the hell, Hummel?"

"Sorry, I'm not equipped to manhandle you the way Finn can," Kurt said briskly, "but you need to pay better attention to what I'm saying." He pinched his ear and Puck yelped, wincing. "Got it?"

"Yeah, I – ow! Fuck." Puck tried to pull away, but Kurt hung on. "What?"

"Got it?" Kurt repeated, with infinite patience.

"Yes," Puck said, glaring at Kurt.

Kurt's eyebrow went up. "Yes?"

"Um." Puck closed his eyes, took an uneven breath, opened them again. "Yes. Sir."

"Better," Kurt nodded, and let his ear go. "Now – what did you say to Finn when he offered to read to you?" Puck's frozen look prompted him to add, "Let me refresh your memory. I believe you said, and I quote, 'If it's not too much trouble.'" He raised the other eyebrow. "Does that sound about right?"

"I guess." Puck caught Kurt's expression, and added, hurriedly, "Sir."

He put his nose right up against Puck's. "You… are not… too much trouble." His eyes drilled into Puck's wide, frightened ones, and he punctuated each phrase with a poke to his chest. "Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Puck squeaked.

"It had better be. If Finn, or I, offer something to you, you answer _just like that,"_ he said. "No matter who's listening. Understand?"

"Yes sir." This time it was almost a whisper.

"You are special, and we love you, and you're _not_ to forget it." Kurt held his gaze for one more eternal moment. Puck looked like he'd lost the ability to breathe, and he nodded silently. Kurt cocked his head. "What was that?"

"Oh – yes, sir," he said.

Kurt sighed. "Somehow I don't think it's quite sinking in." He took Puck's hand and pulled him to his feet, turning him around so he faced the wall above the bed. Then he unbuttoned Puck's jeans and slid down the zipper.

"Um," said Puck, and gasped as Kurt pulled his jeans down with enough force to knock him over onto the bed, then shucked his underpants in an equally quick motion.

Kurt sat on the bed and guided Puck to lie over his knees. "I'm – I'm sorry," Puck blurted, looking close to panic. "I won't – I know you l-love me."

"No," said Kurt, with regret. "You don't." He put a hand on Puck's bare bottom. "I _know_, remember? I was here, in this space, this morning with Finn. I understand how it feels to not be sure. And now… I know how much you need this." Then, with steady, even strokes and clear focus, Kurt began to spank him. Hard.

"You matter," Kurt said, through the _smacks._ "Say it."

Puck swore and squirmed on Kurt's lap. "What?"

"Say, 'I matter.'" Kurt wasn't letting up.

"I - I matter," Puck said, stuttering.

"Finn and Kurt love me." _Smack. "Say it."_

Puck buried his face into the bed. "F-Finn and Kurt love… me." Kurt could hear the tears beginning. He kept the rhythm as even as he could.

"Yes, that's right," he said, and Puck began to cry in earnest. "I'm never a bother. _Say it."_

"I'm never a bother," Puck sobbed. The spanking went on, relentless.

"I'm a good boy," Kurt said, tenderly. "Say it."

"_God,"_ Puck covered his face with his hands.

"Say it for me, sweetheart," Kurt urged. "Come on."

"I'm a… good boy," Puck gasped, between blows.

"You are, Noah," Kurt agreed. His hand stilled. Puck moaned at the absence of stimulation. Kurt reached down and hauled Puck's limp form into his arms, sitting on the floor between his legs, cradling his head on his lap, while Puck's tears went on.

"I'm sorry," Puck mumbled, again and again, hiding his face in Kurt's silk scarf. "I'm so sorry."

"You still don't believe it, not yet," Kurt said, stroking his hair. "But you will."

"I want to," Puck said earnestly. "I do. It's just… hard to believe."

"You've been told so many different things by different people." His hand followed the path from Puck's forehead, down the back of his neck, along his spine, to the small of his back, as rhythmically as the swats of his hand had been, giving comfort. Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt's hips and held on. "At school you play the bad boy. It's easy to get convinced it's true."

Puck wiped his eyes on his hands. "_You've_ always been good."

Kurt laughed without humor. "I'm good at pretending, too. But I know the truth about what's inside."

"Do you?" Puck caught his gaze and held it for several seconds, while Kurt bore the weight of his scrutiny. "I think you're harder on yourself than Finn is," he said, finally.

"I have my dad," he said. "I'm good at leaning on him. But you – who's there for you?"

"Sarah," Puck offered. "And… well, no one else. Not anymore."

"She's your little sister," Kurt objected. "How much can she –"

"Plenty, believe me." Puck sighed.

Kurt kissed the top of his head. "You've been through so much."

Puck started to laugh. "I.. I just can't believe _you're_ the one saying that, to me. Like this, holding me in your fucking lap."

"I like you in my lap," said Kurt, quietly. "Such a good boy."

Puck's eyes were large and hopeful, gazing up at Kurt. "Can I show you how good I can be?" His hands went to the waistband of Kurt's red velvet pants, which were slightly damp from his tears.

"I don't think so," said Kurt, with effort. "Our ten minutes are up."

"I don't care," Puck said, trailing a finger down the seam of Kurt's pants, which were tight enough that there was no question what Kurt's body wanted. He put his mouth against the bulge and breathed out hot, moist air. Kurt choked back a moan.

"Twice in one morning feels a little decadent to me," he said, but he did not object further when Puck undid his pants and worked them down over his hips and knees, down far enough to allow his cock to spring free and for him to spread his legs to give Puck access.

"Please," said Puck, sounding desperate. "Tell me this is okay."

"Tell me you need it," said Kurt, knowing that feeling, too. "Tell me how much."

Puck's breath set fire to his skin. "I dream about your cock in my mouth," he said, panting. "I crave it… I love how you taste, the feel in my throat, filling me up."

This time there was no suppressing the moan that crossed Kurt's lips, and he heard Puck make an echoing moan as he took Kurt into his mouth.

"_Yeah,"_ said Kurt, "that's it, that's my good boy."

Puck moaned again as he adjusted, taking Kurt deeper, finding the angle to allow Kurt to take Puck's head in his hands and control the speed and length of each stroke. Kurt closed his eyes, and knowing Puck _wanted him_ to fuck his mouth made it so much hotter, so much sweeter. "You are so good," he purred. "Such a gift to me… God, you feel _incredible."_

He moved forward, perching on the edge of the bed, letting his hips move more freely. At first his hands were lightly holding, guiding, delighting in the texture of Puck's silky scalp… and then, near the end, gripping his head, as he bucked into Puck's waiting mouth.

"You'll always be mine, sweet Noah," said Kurt, feeling the pressure build, even as his heart swelled with inexpressible feelings, and cradled Puck's head in his hands. Puck gazed up at him, arms tucked around Kurt's hips, holding him in return, and they finished that way, eyes open and locked on each other, nothing held back. It seemed to go on forever, but at last Puck released him, sitting back on his heels, licking his swollen lips.

"I love being on my knees for you, Kurt," he said hoarsely. "You give me something… I need it. I need it… a lot. Like, every day."

Kurt blinked away unshed tears. "I need it too. Don't feel bad about that."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Puck said frankly. "I mean, I'd be okay, I'm not saying I would do something stupid… but…" He shook his head in wonder. "I'm just so much _better_ with you. I feel like I can do anything."

Kurt contemplated him. Puck's eyes were glowing like coals. Even with his pants down to his knees, still rock-hard, he looked calm, together, and completely satisfied. Kurt shook his head, marveling at the young man before him. "I think you can, sweetheart," he said, and gathered Puck into his arms, kissing him.

"Now I really _have_ to go back downstairs," Puck said, after several breathless moments. He nodded to the clock, which read 5:10. "If I don't finish the garlic cream sauce soon, you'll all have to wait for the first course."

"Ohhhh, no," Kurt said, smiling. "You think I'd let you go downstairs like this?" Puck gave a half-laugh, half-groan, as Kurt ran a hand over his heavy erection.

Kurt put his fingers on Puck's lips, and Puck took them into his mouth, sucking his fingers. Kurt felt an immediate, incredible response in his gut. "God, the things you do to me, Noah," he said, watching Puck's tongue bathe his fingers.

"What I do to _you?_" Puck said, incredulous, leaning in to Kurt's wet hand as it curled around his cock. Kurt watched his face carefully, for cues of how hard, how fast, and Puck let him set the pace. "You drive me crazy. Nobody's ever touched me like you do."

"I suppose I have the same equipment," Kurt grinned, "and I've had a lot of practice."

"I don't mean like that," Puck said, laughing, "though that's pretty awesome too." He put a hand on his heart. "I mean the way you've touched me… here."

"Oh," said Kurt, and it suddenly was hard to talk. He ran his other hand along Puck's tense abdomen, inside his shirt, and tucked it under Puck's hand, nestled against his chest. Puck squeezed Kurt's hand and smiled, at the same time he bucked his hips in a way that made Kurt's eyes roll back in his head.

"You like that?" Puck said, eyes lighting. "Does it give you ideas?"

"I think you know," Kurt said. He watched Puck's pace speed up, and he knew he was right.

"Ohhh… yeah. You want to be on top… or on bottom?"

"I want to try both," he said. "Whatever we like better, I think."

"You want me… on top? With you?" Puck looked slightly overwhelmed at the idea.

"I think I do," said Kurt. Even after that last mindblowing orgasm, he could feel his cock express its sincere appreciation of the idea. "I've never done it before."

"Me, neither," said Puck. "Or Finn. We wanted to wait for you. We kind of… wanted it to be all of us, together."

"Oh, wow," Kurt breathed, and it was his turn to feel overwhelmed, and a little bit anxious. He clutched Puck's cock harder, stroking more insistently.

"Yeah, that's it," Puck said, raggedly, "that's how I want you – so tight." He thrust up into Kurt's wet fist, and Kurt felt his ass clench in response. Their mouths found one another, tongues desperately tangling, made more intense by their thoughts of things to come, and the only thing that kept Kurt from making a bolder move in that direction was the idea that Finn wanted them all there.

He hesitated, then leaned in and whispered in Puck's ear, "I want to fuck you, too, sweetheart," and watched in delight as Puck completely fell apart in his arms, moaning and thrusting to completion in a matter of seconds, covering Kurt's scarf with his come.

"You want that?" Kurt teased, taking off his scarf and mopping up the rest. Puck panted heavily, nodding like a bobblehead and then collapsing on the floor.

"Yeah," he said when he could speak, "yeah, fuck yeah. I want that."

"I never was sure, before, if I wanted it or not," Kurt said thoughtfully. "Sometimes it sounded good and other times just really uncomfortable. But now it feels – necessary. Like I would really miss it, if I decided not to try it."

"Some guys don't like it," Puck said, looking up at him from the floor. "You might not. That's okay."

"But I still want it – still want to try it," he said. "With you. And Finn." He smiled a little. "You'll both be my first."

"We'll be each others' firsts," Puck said, letting Kurt pull him up into a kiss. "When we're ready."


	21. Chapter 21

(Author's note: I had to break this scene into two parts because it's just so freaking long, and I wanted to get this bit up here. There's more Sarah to come.)

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><p>Sarah stayed at the table only long enough to establish her space next to Ma, and then she found an excuse to get up and duck into the kitchen. Noah would need her help. There was no way he was going to pull off a six course dinner without a sous chef.<p>

It'd been a long time since she'd seen Mrs. Hudson, but it was like she'd never been away from the house. Everything was exactly in the same place as she remembered it. Even Mr. Hudson's chair, still in front of the TV, with the picture of him and Finn and the creepy urn with his ashes. Sarah remembered having bad dreams about that urn, but she could laugh about them now that she was almost eleven. Being almost eleven meant she could tell the difference between real things and pretend things. There were enough real things in the world to have bad dreams about for her not to waste her time on the pretend things.

Noah was carefully ladling red soup into seven teacups. "Is that tomato-ginger?" she said, taking the lime wedges from the tray and neatly slicing them crossways, the way he'd taught her.

He barely glanced at her, but she felt his tension decrease by about twenty percent. "Yeah," he said. "I was thinking candied ginger on the side. Think it's too much?"

"No," she said. "They can leave it on the plate if they don't like it."

"Nobody leaves anything on my plates," Noah said. She didn't disagree. It was just true, like he'd said _the sun is hot _or _our Ma hates us sometimes._

She glanced at him as she slid saucers under each cup and added a teaspoon to each one. "You look like a waiter," she said.

He smiled sideways. "That's kind of the point."

"But you're the chef."

He opened the bag of candied ginger and smelled it. "Tonight I'm here to serve."

"Isn't that kind of demeaning?"

"How the fuck do you know words like demeaning? You're ten."

"Eleven next week," she reminded him, though she knew he'd never forget. He never had.

"And no, it's not demeaning." He carefully selected one piece of ginger for each plate. One was the wrong size and he put it back, chose a different one. "It's okay to be in service to someone, if it's something you choose to give."

"And you love them," she added. He turned a little pink, but he was smiling when they brought the soup out.

"This is the opening course, called the _amuse bouche,_ which is just a taste to wake up your palate," Noah said, calm as could be. Sarah set the two dishes down, went back in the kitchen, picked up two more, and ferried them out, in complete silence. Then she stood at attention, in what she thought of as her watchful fox pose - aware of everything, completely unnoticed by most people, and ready to get away with anything right under their noses.

She noticed, for example, that Kurt's attitude completely changed when Noah walked into the room. She wasn't surprised. No one affected Noah like Kurt. Kurt was new to their family, but he absolutely belonged. She was glad to have another brother.

She noticed, too, that Finn's attention was split between Kurt and Noah, but that it didn't make his attention to either any less. If anything, it increased it to both. It was more like a candle flame, she thought, than a glass of water. _Finn would be a good brother if I weren't quite so in love with him,_ she thought wistfully. As it was, she had trouble forming sentences around him, and her heart fluttered crazily when he aimed that crooked smile at her. She could tell Kurt felt the same way. Maybe they could talk about Finn together. That would be fun.

"It's a tomato base, with fresh ginger, a little olive oil, thyme and a bit of tabasco," Noah was saying. "Please enjoy. I'll be back with the next course when you're done." He nodded, smiled, just like Sarah thought a waiter would do in a fancy restaurant, and went back into the kitchen.

Everyone made noises of appreciation as he went. Sarah saw that Ma was watching Noah carefully, with a pained expression of love and disbelief. Sarah knew that look. She saw it every day. It meant Ma was waiting for Noah to screw up. If he did, she'd be ready to point it out. Sarah hoped, prayed even, that he wouldn't. She wasn't sure if G-d would come into a Gentile house to help if she prayed to Him, but it was worth a try.

"Puck's been working all day to get this dinner ready, Ruth," said Carole, as though nothing had happened earlier. "I'm so impressed."

"He's always been a good cook," Ruth said. "He can cook anything he wants, even makes up his own recipes." She said it proudly. _As though she had something to do with it,_ Sarah thought.

"Yeah," said Finn, finishing the last of his soup already. "He always cooked us stuff. Still does, for the guys in football, or - um," he trailed off, then shrugged. "For me." The last was quiet but clear, in his adorkable Finn voice. Sarah thought he was brave for going on with the thought.

"He cooks for his real family, too," Ruth added, taking another slow bite. Sarah knew she didn't care for tomato, but she'd eat it because it was Noah's.

The intentional jab didn't go unnoticed by Kurt's dad. Sarah watched his eyes narrow, his fists clench. She hoped he wasn't the hitting kind of guy when he got mad. She could deal with shouting and swearing, but hitting was more challenging to explain at school.

She saw Mrs. Hudson reach out and put a gentle, firm hand on his arm, just for a second, and Mr. Hummel's fists went back to hands. She wondered what kind of power Mrs. Hudson had in her that made things go calm. She hoped she could have that power when she grew up.

"Squirt," she heard, low, from the kitchen, and she ducked back inside. Noah was using a cookie-cutter to cut shapes out of large slices of sweet potato. The skillet was warming, with a buttery smell, and there was a saucepan of white, creamy sauce on the back burner. He held out a bag of uncooked shrimp and pointed at a bowl of chopped hazelnuts on the counter. "Sauté those potato slices, and then add the shrimp and hazelnuts. Don't let them get too brown - just one minute, until they're pink."

"Dude, I've been cooking shrimp since I was eight," she snorted. "You must be really nervous if you're worried about that."

Noah reached out and took her hand, grabbing it tight. It was never too tight. It felt good, to have him hold her hand that way. "I'm glad you're here, squirt," he said.

"Ma was too drunk to drive," she said. "I had to come." She squeezed back.

He nodded, not surprised. He pointed at the stack of saucers on the table. "Sweet potato slice, two shrimp, tails standing up and together, dollop of garlic cream sauce, top with a few hazelnuts." He looked at her. "You ready?"

"Piece of cake," she said. It was a little exciting, and a little nervewracking, and a lot fun to be doing this with Noah. They'd never served their meals to a big group, not such a formal one, anyway. And never one like this, where - it mattered.

When they brought in the shrimp, most everyone was done with the amusing boosh or whatever Noah had called it. _Next time we clear first,_ she said to Noah with her eyes, and he said _yeah, I'm a dork for forgetting,_ and she said, _yeah, you are, _and he said, _shut up._

"This is the first course," he said. "Which, oddly enough, comes after the course you just ate. Don't ask me. French people are weird." He grinned disarmingly, and Finn and Kurt about melted into puddles of boy-goo. _Cute,_ she had to admit. _Watching them be in love with my brother sure is cute._

They set the shrimp dishes down on the sideboard and quickly cleared enough dishes to make room for the first course. "A slice of sweet potato, sauteed with butter, shrimp and hazelnuts. The sauce is mostly garlic and cream."

He touched Kurt's hand as he walked by his spot, and Kurt looked up at him with admiration and love. Finn put a hand on his back, nodding his approval. Noah smiled at Finn, drinking it in.

Sarah knew Noah had always been willing to do just about anything to get that kind of approval from Finn. Long before the confusing world of puberty, she could remember Finn leading their play and Noah following, with never a question of who was in charge. There still was no question. She was glad they'd figured out the puberty stuff, too.

Ma, on the other hand, didn't look so glad. She looked positively ill. "Noah," she hissed, and he stepped away from the boys with a guilty expression.

"Sorry," he said reflexively.

Mr. Hummel started making those fists again. "He didn't do anything," he said, the first words he'd spoken since they sat down.

"I beg your pardon?" Ma said, icily.

"No, I beg yours," said Mr. Hummel, and he was looking right at her. Sarah wondered if there was a way she could come over and whisper into his ear the rules of dealing with Ma, like _never look right into her face when she's mad,_ and _give her a chance to cool down before you look for an apology._ He wasn't going to get very far talking to her this way. "Puck's doing a damn fine job here, and all I saw was a little appreciation from his two... friends. The way I see it, you got nothing to complain about."

"Dad," Kurt said, looking a little ill himself, "I don't think this is the place -"

"No, Kurt, this is exactly the place." Mr. Hummel set his fork down, his shrimp untouched. "We're here to figure out what's going on with our kids. You guys, you three boys here, and us, your parents. We're all involved. We'd better start with being honest with each other."

Mrs. Hudson was watching Mr. Hummel with a funny twisted-lip expression. Sarah guessed that meant she wasn't quite sure what to make of him. Sarah liked him already, but she knew grownups were slower to figure these things out than kids.

"Mr. Hummel - " Ma began.

"Call me Burt, please." It really didn't sound like a request, the way he said it.

"Burt," she said. "I don't have anything against - people like your son." Mr. Hummel's eyes narrowed, but he continued to listen politely. "But my son, my Noah, he's not like that. Not before this." She looked up at Noah with bitter disappointment, and Noah looked away uneasily. "Something happened to make him - not normal."

"I don't know what passes for normal in your household," Mr. Hummel said, through gritted teeth, "but I'd appreciate you not passing judgment on mine."

"Ruth," Mrs. Hudson said, putting a hand on Ma's arm. "Don't you think you should let the boys speak for themselves about how they came to - recognize their feelings? And anyway, I'm not sure how much of it is our business."

"It's okay, Mom," said Finn. "I'll tell my part." He had not let go of Kurt's hand, and Kurt stared back at Ma with defiance. Sarah felt an impulse to hug them both. "Mrs. Puckerman, you know how long Puck and I have been friends. Best friends." He looked up at Noah's subdued face, and grinned. "Even when we fought. Maybe especially then." Noah shot him a surprised look. Sarah wondered what that was about, but she figured they deserved some secrets. She'd probably worm it out of Noah later anyway.

Finn went on. "You're right - I never really thought about - guys before this. It was a surprise to me when I realized how I felt about Puck. But then, I'm not the best at noticing stuff. When it started, a few months ago... I needed someone to talk to. Kurt was my friend. He didn't pressure me, and neither did Puck. We kind of... figured it out together."

Finn reached out his other hand for Noah, who hesitated only a moment before taking it. "So I guess what I want you to know is, I'm _completely_ sure all the feelings I have for Kurt, and for Puck, came from inside me, not from someone else. Nobody converted me or anything. It's just... the way it is." He looked frankly at Ma and shrugged. "I'm not sure what else to say."

"I think you've said plenty," Ma said testily. "In any case, I'd rather not have it shoved in my face." She stared pointedly at their joined hands.

"Excuse me," Mr. Hummel looked perplexed. "Just how is holding hands shoving it in your face?"

"I'd rather not see it." Ma eyed him. "Don't tell me you're so comfortable with homosexuality."

"No," Mr. Hummel said, after a tense pause. He looked at Finn and Kurt's hands, clenched so tight that Kurt's knuckles were white. "But I'd like to be. I think I owe it to Kurt, and anyone he chooses to date, to try to be."

Ma made a soft clucking noise with her tongue. "Aren't you supposed to be setting a _good_ example for your son?"

Mrs. Hudson set down her water glass. She appeared cool and calm. Sarah was impressed, but not surprised. Finn's mom definitely wasn't the hitting type, or the yelling type either. She was... kind of the awesome type. "Well, as far as I'm concerned," she said, "setting a good example means respecting my son's choices and loving him, no matter what."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Mr. Hummel said, nodding.

"I've always tried to raise Finn to believe that all kinds of love are acceptable and should be embraced. Kurt's always known he was gay."

"Well, since I was five," Kurt interjected, with a little smile. "I had a crush on Linus from the Peanuts cartoon. Please, do continue." He gave Ma a dirty look. Sarah wanted to giggle, but she knew better than to break the watchful fox pose.

"And Finn's just figuring it out," Mrs. Hudson continued, not successfully hiding a grin. "I don't see how one of these is right and the other is wrong. Being gay is just part of life."

"But Noah isn't gay," Ma said sharply. "Noah... please - what _is_ this? A fashion statement? Because, really, the nipple ring and the mohawk were bad enough." Kurt made a noise and tried to get up, but Finn put one hand on his neck and Kurt sat back down.

Noah looked at seven pairs of eyes staring at him and swallowed, tugging on his black bow tie. Sarah decided he looked amazing in the waiter getup. The green vest was perfect.

"You're right," he said. "I'm not gay. To me that means you just like people of one sex. I like girls... and guys." He indicated Finn and Kurt. "And I happen to be completely nuts about these two right here. I don't care that they're guys. I care that they're the most awesome people I've ever met. Yeah, they're hot." He ignored Ma's sound of disgust. "That's only part of it. They understand me, like no one ever has. They give me something I need."

Sarah wasn't hurt by Noah's comment about _no one ever has_. She knew she and Noah had a connection like none other. He was only helping maintain the watchful fox by not drawing attention to her. She considered it a victory when no one noticed her for hours on end.

Noah looked hard at Ma. "I'm not going to let you make this something disgusting," he said, with a strong voice she'd seldom heard him use with her. "It's beautiful. You don't have to see it, but you don't get to be in the way of it." He held her gaze until she looked away. Sarah wanted to cheer, and from the look on Kurt's face, he did, too.

He stepped aside. "Now, I'm going to get the salad ready. Any shrimp left on your plate will go into the garbage, so you'd better eat it."

Sarah slipped out behind him. He didn't even make it to the sink before the tears began, great big gulping sobs, and she hesitated, a hand on his heaving back. "Finn or Kurt?" she said.

"Finn," he said, choking. "Please."

She walked sedately back into the dining room, going right up to Finn. "Noah needs help getting a bowl down from the shelf above the fridge," she said. "Right now."

Finn shot to his feet and nearly ran into the kitchen. She sighed. _Finn don't do subtle,_ she thought, and cleared some dishes from the table before following him.

"It's okay," Finn was saying. Noah's body was plastered up against his chest, and he was crying as quietly as he could manage. Sarah got the salad out from the fridge and tossed it with the dressing in the big bowl that was already sitting on the table. She glanced above the fridge and nodded with satisfaction. _Yep, that's where they keep 'em. I remembered._

"She can't touch us," said Finn. His voice was flint and steel. "No matter what she says. There's nothing she can do to take it away from us."

"I know," Noah said haltingly, wiping his nose. "It just. Sucks. That she doesn't see. How awesome you are."

Sarah laid out seven bowls and quickly divided the salad between them, then got the sauteed mushrooms off the stove. "They go on top, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Noah said. Finn handed him a tissue and he blew his nose. "And the toasted hazelnuts are in that bowl. Just a spoonful on each one." He nodded at the salad. "Thanks again, squirt."

"I knew you couldn't do it without me," she said.

"Never could," he said. He held up a hand for her to slap and she wrinkled her nose.

"You didn't get snot on that one, did you?"

He grinned. "You know me so well."


	22. Chapter 22

(Author's note: Now that Road Trip is done, I'm really happy to be back into this story. There's plenty more to come. Thanks for your patience. -amy)

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><p>They washed with soap before going back out to pick up the appetizer dishes. Finn put an arm around Sarah at the sink and gave her a squeeze. "Thanks, Sarah. You're really helping out."<p>

"It's what I do," Sarah said stoically, not letting Finn see how his closeness and smile made her heart leap like a critter from a Miyazaki film.

When they went out to clear, the only plate that still had food on it was Finn's, and that was gone in one bite after he sat down. _That boy can eat,_ Sarah thought with approval. _Just another way he's good for Noah._

Ma was sitting quietly, for now, but Sarah could tell she wasn't done being mad.

"I agree," Mr. Hummel was saying, "but in my house, they have to keep the doors open. And Kurt's curfew is 11 pm. That stands."

"Dad, I'm sixteen," said Kurt petulantly. "I think I'm ready for a later curfew."

"You've never had a reason for one," Mr. Hummel pointed out. "If you'd been wanting to go out on dates, you can bet I would have made it ten. Eleven is reasonable."

"We're teenagers. We're like... owls. That's when we _wake up_." Kurt glared at his dad, but Finn put a hand on his back, doing something Sarah couldn't see, and whispered into his ear, and Kurt's pissy mood shifted to quiet contemplation. Sarah thought it was really pretty amazing to watch. Finn apparently had the same magical powers as his mother did to calm people down.

Noah brought out the salad and set bowls in front of the grownups first. "These are mesclun greens with a tarragon vinaigrette, sauteed shiitake mushrooms and toasted hazelnuts."

Mrs. Hudson took a bite and nodded. "Mmmm. Delicious, Puck."

"Thanks," Mr. Hummel said, accepting his plate from Noah with a gruff smile. Sarah wouldn't have pegged him for a salad eater, but he gamely tasted it, then consumed the whole plate with gusto.

"While you're eating your salad, let me take your order for the main course," Puck said. "There's a beef tenderloin stuffed with mushrooms, garlic and shallots."

"Yay more mushrooms," Kurt whispered to Finn, raising a fist. Finn gave him an amused look.

"Or there's fish, if you don't usually eat meat," he said, grinning at Kurt. "Wild-caught tilapia. Ma, I've already got yours."

"Thank you, Noah," she said, somewhat primly, as though to say, _See, I can be polite too._

"Isn't fish meat?" Finn whispered to Mr. Hummel.

"_I_ thought so," Mr. Hummel whispered back, shrugging, through a mouthful of salad.

"I mean, it has a face. I think it's meat if it has a face."

Regardless of the answer to the question, there were five votes for beef and two for fish ("Though I wouldn't say no to a small piece of the tenderloin," said Mrs. Hudson). Sarah and Noah went back into the kitchen, leaving Kurt to pursue his claim for a later curfew.

"We've never had a curfew," said Sarah.

"Nope," said Noah, getting the tenderloin out of the fridge. "Never needed one."

Sarah paused in slicing mushrooms, considering. "Do you think parents just want to control their kids, or do they really think getting more sleep is going to make them better people?"

"I dunno. I just make up on sleep during math. Check the oven temperature, would you?"

"All set," she said. "Which one goes in first, the fish or the meat?"

"We'll stuff the tenderloins and put them in the oven, then put the lemon sauce on the fish and bake it while the meat finishes under foil." He smelled the mushroom stuffing. "Morels... mmmm. God, they're better than sex."

"Really?" Sarah was dubious. "Better? It sure _sounds_ good when you do it."

"Look," he snapped, "there's no way you can hear us from the first floor."

She giggled. "Got you. Touchy, huh? Are you guys really that loud?"

"Bite me," he said, turning red, and she mentally added a tally mark to the Sarah side of the Sarah-Noah scoreboard. Currently the total stood at Sarah, six hundred and twenty nine; Noah, four hundred and eighteen.

The conversation had escalated to the point that Sarah could hear more than a few voices raised. "Jeez. I'm glad I'm not out there."

"Why do you think I'm the chef? There's no way I'd sit through this shit." He stopped near the hallway and craned his neck to hear. "Hey, I think they're dividing and conquering. Someone's in the hallway. Go spy on them and report back."

"Don't cook the tilapia without me," she made him promise. "I want to see how you do the lemon sauce." She scooted into the hallway and scoped out the situation, then casually walked past Burt and Carole to the pocket bathroom behind them. The position was excellent for surveillance, and it didn't hurt that the sliding door didn't quite want to close. She turned off the light and watched them through the crack, straining her ear. _Be the fox, _she thought, and listened.

"I'd never hit a woman, Carole," Mr. Hummel was saying, his lips tight. "But I swear, if she says one more hateful thing about those boys, I am going to punch a hole in your wall."

"Trust me, you wouldn't be the first to try," Mrs. Hudson replied. Sarah saw her lean against the banister and rub her forehead, wincing. Mr. Hudson looked instantly concerned, and she shook her head. "Headache. I'm fine. You know, Ruth isn't so bad when she's not drinking."

"Yeah? And how often is that?" Mr. Hummel's smile wasn't like Kurt's, but his eyes were. It was the way he could stay focused on one thing without blinking for minutes at a time. It could have made somebody uncomfortable, but Sarah knew Mrs. Hudson. She didn't do uncomfortable.

"Not often enough." Mrs. Hudson met his gaze, and Mr. Hummel shifted a little so he was leaning on the banister next to her. Sarah grinned. _Subtle._ "She hasn't had an easy life. Her husband left, and then Puck's brother… she had to go back to school. Being a nurse is incredibly stressful, and working the graveyard shift, never getting to see her kids… it's hard on her. She doesn't get any time to recharge, to relax."

"It's no excuse. The way she talks to Puck. It's not right." He shook his head. "Parents need to respect their kids as much as kids need to respect their parents."

"Burt. _Respect_ - that's what I'm saying." She put a hand on his arm. "Our boys are attempting something monumental. I'm sure I never, ever could have done what they're doing when I was sixteen - heck, or _now -_ but somehow, they're doing it. Have you seen them together? I mean…" Sarah couldn't say Mrs. Hudson actually _blushed, _but she looked a little disconcerted (which was one of Sarah's vocab words for the week, and didn't she rock, using it in context?). "Seen them, the three of them, interacting."

Mr. Hummel sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back on the wall next to her. "Yeah. I've seen them. The four of us had Chinese and watched _All the King's Men_ earlier this week.I was figuring there'd be some rivalry there, but they... they just make it work."

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "But they can't do that unless they have time together, to be themselves. Not what their teachers or their parents want them to be, just... to relax."

"Yeah. Relax." Mr. Hudson snorted. "Carole, I know what teenage boys do when they get together with their girlfriends. Do you think this is any different? Do you really approve of them doing _that_..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "In your house?"

She glared at him. "Well, I know the alternative is that they're going to sneak around and do it _out_ of the house. I can't say I'm completely comfortable with the idea, but the prospect of them getting caught is one I really would rather not contemplate." Then she smiled. "Kurt made a pretty convincing case to me on their behalf. He's quite the orator."

Mr. Hummel's smile was surprised, but proud, too. "Yeah?" Sarah didn't know what an orator was, but she knew Kurt was awesome with awesome sauce, and Burt clearly agreed. _It was strange to see a dad who loved his kid so much,_ she thought. Maybe dads were supposed to love like that. She'd never met one who did.

"Yes. I think they need some safe places to be, where their love is respected - where they don't have to worry about the world telling them they're wrong for wanting to be together. My home is one of those places. I bet Kurt would appreciate knowing your home is like that, too."

"You're telling me to let them close the door," he said. "Aren't you."

"Yeah," she said firmly, tipping her head up to look into his face as he leaned closer. "I am."

Sarah slid the bathroom door open with a bang, and Mr. Hummel jumped back like someone had handed him a rattlesnake. "Main course is just about done," she said cheerfully, and sauntered past them into the kitchen.

"So?" Noah asked, in the midst of filling a tenderloin with mushroom stuffing, when she came back in. "What's going on?"

"They're gonna let you have sex at their houses," Sarah said with satisfaction. "And Mr. Hummel's totally putting the moves on Mrs. Hudson."

Noah cracked a big smile. "Burt, my man," he cackled. "I'm guessing it's high time he got some. Anything else?"

Sarah got the fish out of the fridge. "Mr. Hummel is pissed at Ma. You think I should take her home?"

"No. It's bad, but this needs to happen." He set the lemon glaze on the stove next to the broiler pan, and took a deep breath. "If I don't puke, I think it's going to be okay."

"If you're gonna hurl, go for the upstairs bathroom," she advised. "The door in the front hallway sticks."

Noah suddenly put down his deboning knife and grabbed Sarah's shoulder, squashing her in a hug. Nothing ever felt so good as being hugged by Noah, and the bigger and taller he got, the safer and more awesome it felt. "You're the best, you know it?"

"Yep," she said, into his vest.

"I'm not coming home tonight," he added, more quietly. "Are you going to be okay?"

She didn't say anything for a minute. "Mrs. Hudson said, if I wanted, I could stay here. Tonight, or whenever. I have to take Ma home, but if it got... bad... I could come back."

"Dude." He sounded seriously impressed. "I need to bake her a fucking cake."

"You already did," Sarah pointed out.

"Okay, then, I need to clean out her gutters, or... weed her garden, or _something."_ He let go of Sarah as the timer for the oven went off. "Go. You clear, I'll get the second set of tenderloins in, and transfer these to plates."

"Aye, aye," she said, snapping a salute, and headed back into the dining room again, where the voices were getting loud again.

Ma was facing off with Kurt, who looked like he might blow steam out of his ears at any moment, and was barely held in check by a wary, frustrated Finn. "Mrs. Puckerman, how can you say that about someone you barely know," he was saying. "He's a great student and a good person. I don't know how you can judge him like that."

"Musicians are all alike, Finn," she said, shaking her head. "Trust me. I found out the hard way. And you? You're a good boy. What happened to football? You don't need this singing and dancing crap."

"For some of us, that's where our heart is, where our dreams are," Kurt protested. "You can't take the singing and dancing out of us. We'd just be... shells of ourselves. Finn is as much a singer as he is a football player. All of that makes him who he is. Puck, his guitar - it's like a part of him. How could you want him to give that up?"

"Fine," she snapped. Ma was well into her wounded divorcee routine. "Go ahead and sing, dance, do your tours. Just don't confuse your dreams with love. It's going to get someone hurt. Probably the person you leave behind."

Kurt was stung into silence, but Finn put a defensive arm around him. "We've got two years of school left before we have to think about where we're going next," he said. "Why do we have to think so far ahead? We're kids, right? That's what everyone keeps telling us. We don't need to make all our decisions yet. Right now, this is what's real in my life. I'm not hurting anybody by loving Puck and Kurt."

Ma shook her head sadly. "What kind of a warped love _is _that? Finn, you can't want that for yourself, for your family. You grew up right alongside my Noah, Finn. You're like a son to me. Think about your mother. Carole, tell him. You could have any girl you want."

"I don't want a girl," Finn shouted. "I choose Puck. I choose Kurt. It's _my _choice. I don't care what anyone else thinks."

Sarah watched Ma recoil from his shout and wrap herself in righteousness. "Then you're deliberately bringing shame on your family. I can't stand by and watch that happen."

"Ruth." Mrs. Hudson's voice was strong, and Ma shut her mouth, barely holding her tongue. "There's no shame in what Finn is doing. You don't get to talk to my son that way."

"I'm done talking." Ma stood up and pushed her chair in, and even though she stood without help, Sarah knew she wasn't sober yet, not by a long shot. "I can't control what goes on outside my house. But when I'm around, I don't want to see it, I don't want to hear about it, and I _definitely_ don't want it around Sarah."

"Ma," Sarah said, "sit down."

Ma, and everybody else, looked at Sarah like she was a part of the furniture that had suddenly grown a mouth and started talking. "Noah is almost done with the steak," she said. "And the fish. We're going to bring it out, and we're going to eat it. It's going to taste... well, like everything Noah cooks. He's never worked so hard on anything in his life." Ma opened her mouth, and Sarah held her hand up: _stop_. "Don't fuck this up, Ma. It's too important."

"Sarah, don't talk to your mother that way," Mr. Hummel said sharply. Sarah must have flinched or something, because his eyes changed right in front of her, from outraged to soft and kind. His hands were not fists. She was not going to cry.

"Excuse me," Sarah said. She pushed her chair in and went into the kitchen.

"You ready to do the fish now, squirt - oh. Fuck." Noah looked at her, saw how she was, and dropped the spoon into the pan of lemon sauce, making a big splat on the counter. He let her get small, make herself into a ball, right there on the linoleum, and he sat with her, enclosing her in the ring of his arms and legs, and just held on as she shook.

"What did she say?" he murmured into her hair. "No, it's not important."

"It - um." Sarah scrubbed at her eyes and nose with the hem of her shirt. Puck reached up and grabbed a reasonably clean dishrag off a chair and passed it to her. "It wasn't Ma. It was Mr. H-hummel."

"Burt?" Noah was suddenly pissed. "What the hell?"

"No! Noah, he was nice. I just - I said something to Ma, and he said I couldn't talk to her that way." She took as deep a breath as she could. "It just was - awful. His eyes."

"I got it," he said, grimly. "I can't stand seeing that fucking pity, either. Not from grownups. Especially not from nice ones."

"Not from the ones that matter," she agreed. "He saw how it was, and I hate. That." _ Hate that it is, and hate that he saw it. _

"Sarah?" Kurt's sweet voice was gentle and worried. Sarah heard him sit next to them on the floor, felt him lean his soft head on her back, his miniature top hat bumping her neck. "Honey... my dad is really sorry."

"It's not his fault," she said. "I'm - sometimes I get scared. For no reason."

"I doubt that," Kurt said, petting her hair. "There's always a reason."

"We don't talk about it," Noah said softly. "It's better not to."

Kurt's arms went around Sarah and Noah, so she was folded inside the cradle of two bodies. She had never been hugged by two people before, and she wondered if this was what it was like for her brother. She wondered if it was like this if you had two parents. She could definitely see the appeal, either way.

"He wants to say sorry, but he didn't want to... scare you again. Will you come out and eat with us?"

Sarah nodded, wiped her eyes and blew her nose on the towel. Noah got up and peeled the foil off the steak plates just as the timer rang for the fish. "You ready?" he asked, and she nodded again. "I'll get the fish. Kurt, can you take two plates? Those are for you and Finn."

"Sure," said Kurt, scrambling to help. Sarah and he each took two while Noah managed to plate the fish, add the garnish and carry all three dishes without spilling anything.

Noah's face was smooth and cocky. Sarah wasn't sure if Kurt realized how he was really feeling, or if he thought this meant Noah was okay. She didn't know Kurt well enough to identify his own tells, but she guessed it had something to do with his hair. He kept playing with his bangs.

She didn't look at Burt as she brought him his steak. "Sarah," he said, and she stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Eat," she said, "and everything will be okay."

He made a move to touch her, and she shook her head again. "It's okay," she said again.

"It's not," he said, almost too quietly to hear.

"No," she said, equally quietly. "But it has to be."

The room was silent for several minutes, which Sarah had always considered the biggest compliment anyone could give their culinary efforts. It meant they were stuffing their faces and they didn't even want to stop to say "Yum." She sliced off piece after piece and put it in her mouth, chewed, swallowed. It was tender and salty and fucking awesome.

Noah went out to the deck and retrieved his guitar. It told Sarah how distracted he was, that he would have left it out there this long, in the rapidly cooling November evening. He sat on the edge of the couch, away from the table, and played quietly while they chewed:

_Songs to make you free_

_And songs to take you to another time _

_Forgotten reasons that are made of rhyme _

_For you and me _

_The songs of life _

_That somehow make us free_

Sarah watched Ma stiffen and put down her fork. She hid her mouth behind her napkin, and Sarah could see her eyes, hard and hurting, filling with tears she was not willing to shed in front of other people.

Crying was a sign of weakness, of course. Sarah had always known it made you weak to share your pain with others. But here was Noah, pulling out the big guns: Ma's favorite fish, and Neil Diamond.

_Songs to fill the heart_

_Like quiet candles on a winter's night_

_They touch the spaces between you and I_

_And I will sing_

_The songs of love_

_That speak to you and me_

She looked around the table. Kurt had stopped eating and was watching Noah with a heartbreaking expression, one white-knuckled hand on Finn's arm. Finn was taking steady bites - his was the largest tenderloin, of course - and pausing every few moments to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. Sarah watched Mr. Hummel and Mrs. Hudson, watching their own children, and making an effort not to look at one another.

_Then wake the sleeping child_

_And let me sing to you of other times_

_And let me make your dreams as sweet as mine_

_And I will bring_

_The gift of song_

_That only makes us free_

Noah set down the guitar just as Ma started to make strange noises, little hitching, choking sounds, and it wasn't until Mrs. Hudson got out of her chair and hugged her that Sarah realized she was crying. Sarah went over to Noah.

"Shit, I think I broke her," he whispered, looking worried. She tugged on his hand and got him to stand up, pulling him over to stand beside Ma, where Mrs. Hudson was holding her. He crouched down next to her chair and put a hand on her back.

"Ma," he said. "A couple weeks ago, you told me I wasn't like... my dad. I don't know if I am or not, but I'm trying not to be. All he ever gave me was his guitar and his effing Neil Diamond LPs. I want to be a better man than he was. But in my own way, okay?"

"Noah..." She pulled away from Mrs. Hudson's arms and faced him, her cheeks blotchy and wet, and shook her head. "This... what you're doing. All I can foresee for you is pain, and loneliness. I don't want that for you." She gazed at him, appealing. "What happened to my good boy?"

"He's growing up," Mrs. Hudson said gently. "You have to let Puck be himself. If this is a mistake, you have to let him make it."

"It's not a mistake," said Sarah. Noah looked at her, surprised. "It's not," she said again. "It's the least mistakey thing ever. It's just right." Ma shook her head again, but she could tell there was a space there, a possibility that hadn't been a few minutes ago.

"Puck," Mrs. Hudson said, steadily, "what's next?"

"Uh... the sorbet."

She gave him the funniest smile, like he'd done something amazing. "Right. Let's sit back down and have our sorbet."

Mrs. Hudson handed Ma a tissue before helping Sarah clear the main course plates. They went into the kitchen together, where Noah was using a fancy scoop to carefully set four little balls of sorbet into each dish. "Everything is perfect, Puck," she said, setting the dishes next to the sink.

"Thanks, Carole," he said, but he didn't smile.

Sarah got the teaspoons out. "Do you have any other forks, Mrs. Hudson?" she asked. "We should have clean forks for dessert."

"Kids," she said, all of a sudden, and both Noah and Sarah had to stop and look at her. She looked like she was about to fall apart, and that really freaked Sarah out. Having her mother cry was weird enough, but Mrs. Hudson had never been anything but strong. But she pulled herself together, with a visible effort, and said, "If you need anything. _Anything._ Just know you can come to me. Okay?"

There was nothing they could say to that, except to nod. Mrs. Hudson nodded back, then retreated to the dining room.

Sarah sighed. She knew Mrs. Hudson was trying to help, but more grownups involved in their family - concerned friends, social workers, Ma's boyfriends - had always led to trouble. It was better if they just handled things themselves.

Noah slowly set the sorbet scoop in the sink. He looked out over the backyard. "Do you remember when we used to play Monopoly?" he said. "Board game night. We'd come here a couple times a week, when Ma was still in school."

"I was pretty young," she said. "But I remember I always wanted to be the little shoe."

His eyes were far away. "I could barely read and she made me be the rule-checker, every week. I used to hate that, thinking she was punishing me somehow, but now... now, I think she was trying to help. Trying to give me a chance to, you know, get something right. It didn't matter if I couldn't do it at first, but I was always allowed to try, and get help, and finally… get it right."

Sarah squinched her eyebrows together. "Do you think that's what parents are supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Noah shrugged. "Let's get this out there before it all melts."

Ma was calm and quiet when they went back out. She was even being reasonably nice to Finn, discussing the end of the football season and the upcoming basketball season. When he set the sorbet in front of her, she gave him a wan smile.

"This is green tea sorbet, just to cleanse your palate before the dessert course," Noah said. "You don't have to eat it all." Finn laughed at that, and Sarah watched Noah visibly relax when he heard it.

Kurt perused the menu, printed on blue cloud-covered paper (Sarah was glad Noah had found time to edit and retype it, after she found all those mistakes). "Gingerbread cupcakes with cardamom cream cheese frosting?" he murmured, looking up at Noah with bright eyes.

"I can bring yours out now for you, if you want," Noah said, but Kurt shook his head.

"I don't mind the wait," he said, with a slow smile, and Noah turned six shades of red.

"I'm going to, uh, put them in the oven to warm them up," he stammered. "Be... be right back." He beat a retreat into the kitchen.

Sarah watched Finn give Kurt a look, but it didn't dampen his smirk. She slid into her seat and devoured the sorbet, then went around and collected the empty bowls and spoons and set them on the sideboard. Ma was giving Kurt a look, too, and it wasn't a pleasant one.

"Well," said Mr. Hummel, "we should probably have this conversation with all three of you in the room, but... Finn, your mother and I were talking about you guys spending time together." He glanced at Mrs. Hummel, who looked surprised, but willing to roll with it. "We know you're under a lot of stress. Your friends, the guys at school - I know you might not be willing to trust them with... this. But you, uh..." He looked once more at Mrs. Hummel. She seemed to be waiting for something. "The three of you are welcome at my house."

Kurt broke into an amazed, delighted smile. "Dad," he said.

"And at mine," added Mrs. Hudson, smiling her approval at Mr. Hummel, who looked sheepishly pleased at this. "Finn, we're going to keep Kurt's curfew for school nights. Weeknights, each of you need to be at your own homes by 11. On weekends, as long as you're at one of our homes, you can stay together."

Then she looked at Ma, who was staring fixedly at her water glass. "Ruth," she said.

"I already told you what I can tolerate," she said in a tight voice. "I don't want to see it." She wrung her hands and let out her breath. "But if I'm not home, I don't have much say about what you do, do I? And... I'm hardly ever home."

Then she looked up at Sarah. Sarah was already sitting still, but she froze under her mother's gaze. "Sarah," she said.

"You can't keep me away from them," she blurted, shaking her head. "You can't."

"Sarah -"

"No!" she shouted. "They're family. They're _my _family!"

There was a silence, marked only by Sarah's stressed breathing. Ma turned so white, Sarah thought she might faint. But then she stirred, pushed out her chair, and stood. "I was about to say I thought you were old enough to make your own decision." Her voice was small and brittle, like a piece of glass. "It sounds like you already have."

"Ruth," Mrs. Hudson said, but Ma was already storming out. Mrs. Hudson looked desperately at Mr. Hummel, then took off after her. The door slammed, opened, closed again. Sarah sighed.

"It's not a big deal," she said. "She does this all the time. Sometimes we don't see her until the next day."

"You're - you're ten years old?" Mr. Hummel was incredulous.

Kurt cleared his throat. "Eleven next week," he said. Sarah felt a strange sensation in her chest, painful in its intensity, and she bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed.

Finn stood, heading for the kitchen, but he was met by Noah in the doorway. He looked tired. "I heard everything," he said.

"Puck, this... god." Finn rubbed his forehead and put an arm around Noah's shoulder. "This sucks."

"Welcome to my life," Noah said. "Be glad she didn't start calling anybody names. She's got a mouth on her. That actually went better than I expected."

Mr. Hummel came right over to me, reached out and grasped Sarah's hand. His fingers were callused and rough, and so warm. "You can stay with me and Kurt tonight," he said.

Sarah wiped her nose on her sleeve, and then Kurt was right there next to her, offering his handkerchief. It was the same color as his velvet pants and had a monogrammed K in the corner. "Thanks," she said, "that's really nice, Mr. Hummel, honest... but I think I'd rather stay here."

"That's fine," said Kurt. "We'll all stay here." He looked meaningfully at Finn, who nodded.

"We're not done," she said. "The cupcakes. And… and the truffles."

"Fuck it. We're done," said Noah. "Let's go sit in the family room. I'll get the cupcakes and make the coffee. Yes, squirt, and the truffles."

Sarah and Kurt moved together, like a single unit, toward the couch. "You're not going to make me listen to more Neil Diamond, are you?" she said suspiciously.

"No," he said. "We're fucking playing Monopoly."

* * *

><p>Song credit: "The Gift of Song," copyright 1974 by Neil Diamond.<p>

http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=QZmufsw8G6E


	23. Chapter 23

(Author's note: I've been on vacation, and now I'm back, with 17k words worth of updates. Enjoy! -amy)

* * *

><p>"Now I remember why I hate playing Monopoly with you," Finn grumbled, handing a stack of multicolored paper money down to Puck, seated between his knees. "You always win."<p>

"It's not my fault I'm lucky, dude," Puck said with satisfaction, heaping his money in a big messy stack. Kurt immediately sorted it into neat piles by ascending denomination.

"What, you're not claiming mad dice-rolling skills? I bet I can find a copy of Craps for Dummies somewhere on your DVD shelf." Sarah breathed on the dice in her cupped hands, then let Kurt breathe on them, then Finn, but did not deign to let Puck near them. She tossed them on the table and groaned, flopping back against the couch. "Not the railroads again! Shit on a _stick."_

Puck cackled, rubbed his hands together and collected $200 from Sarah. "Hey, I've got to be lucky at something, right? Might as well be Monopoly."

"I can think of at least one more way you've gotten lucky," Sarah said, and Puck threw a pillow at her. She drew an invisible tally mark in the air. "Six hundred and thirty."

"Dude," Puck said to Finn under his breath, looking at Burt, who was talking on his cell phone on the other side of the room. "Did your mom really say we could do the deed at your house?"

"I don't think we should really be talking about that here," Finn said, looking uncomfortably at Sarah, but she rolled her eyes at him.

"Give me a break, Finnocence. I've known the facts of life since I was three. I probably know more about sex than you and Kurt put together." She leaned her head against Kurt's shoulder. "No offense, Kurt."

"None taken," Kurt said, leaning his head against hers in return.

"Squirt, you shouldn't call Finn names," Puck objected. "Especially not those that aren't true anymore."

Finn turned the color of the Indiana Monopoly property, and coughed. "You defending me, man?" he said.

"Always," Puck said, staunchly, shaking the dice. "Nobody gets to make fun of you except me. And Kurt." He tossed the dice and pumped his fist. "Yes! Doubles again."

"Why not me too?" Sarah said. "I don't get it."

"There's just some people you should treat with respect. Hand me Marvin Gardens, dude. I'm buying it." He counted out the correct change and passed it to Kurt.

"Since when do I treat my brothers with respect?" Sarah snorted. Now Puck was the one to turn red.

Finn grinned at Sarah. "I'm a brother?"

She shrugged. "You've always been one. Now it's just more so. Kurt, it's your turn."

Burt finally returned to their circle with a tired sigh, and the tension immediately rose several degrees. He glanced at the board. "There's no way I'm going to catch up to you now," he said, trying to smile. "You guys are going to clean my clock."

"Did Mom talk to her?" Finn asked quietly. Burt shook his head.

"Ruth wouldn't answer the door," he said. "Carole's on her way back."

"Finn, let's go clean up in the kitchen," Kurt said, taking Finn's hand. He rose, watching Puck carefully, but Puck shrugged and waved them on.

There was an awkward silence. Sarah and Puck were watching Burt with identical wary expressions. Burt looked from Puck, to the Monopoly board, to the ceiling, and finally back to Puck before he said, "Puck..."

"Look, there's nothing to say," Puck interrupted. "I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but it's really better if you don't try to help. There's nothing you can do that will fix things."

Burt looked at Puck unhappily. "You really think that's true?"

"Ma's got some... you just have to know how to handle her. We do okay. She doesn't hit us. She wants to take care of us, honest, and she loves us. Things will be back to normal tomorrow."

Sarah avoided Burt's eyes when he knelt down next to her on the couch. "Honey, I heard what you said before," he said, his voice gentle, but firm. "I saw how you looked at me. I'm thinking you haven't seen _normal_ at your house in a while."

She didn't respond. "Sarah?" Puck said, and there was a degree of fear, even panic, in the word.

"You've been gone a lot lately," she said quietly. "I think she's getting worse. Sometimes I can't get her off the couch at night. Noah, she doesn't even recognize me." She looked at Puck, and her eyes were miserable. "I asked her to sign a permission slip for school the other day and she screamed at me for five minutes, no warning or anything."

Puck stared hard at the wall, his mouth a firm line. "Mr. Hummel," Sarah said, suddenly grabbing Burt's arm with both hands, "what would happen to her? There was one time three boyfriends ago when social services came to the house, and asked us lots of questions, and we got them to go away. But what if - what if we didn't this time? If she - couldn't stay, with us. Where would she go? Who would take care of her?"

Sarah's eyes were dry, and her questions were calm, but Burt looked close to tears. "I don't know," he said. "But I can find out. I can do that." He shook his head. "I've got to say, I don't feel comfortable with either of you being at your house alone with her. Especially you, Sarah."

"She would totally flip out if we didn't come home, Burt," Puck said, crossing his arms. "She'd send the cops after you. I don't want to get you guys in trouble."

"Do you have any other family around here? I know your dad's not in the picture anymore." Puck shook his head, looking at his lap. "Carole mentioned... an older brother. Is he around here?"

"Not usually," said Sarah. "Anyway, Timmy's only twenty-one, Mr. Hummel. That's not old enough to take care of us, is it? Even if he wanted to?"

"I don't know," he said. "I think if you two wanted to stay together, placing you with a relative would be your best bet. Otherwise there'd be a chance of splitting you up and placing you with foster families."

"Split us up?" Puck's expression was livid, and Sarah looked terrified. "They couldn't do that. No fucking way."

"Nobody's doing anything until I get some answers," Burt said. "I'll call my attorney in the morning. But you two - it doesn't feel right to let you be there."

"After tonight, I'm not sure what we're gonna do," Sarah said. "But Mrs. Hudson said we could stay here. Maybe we could do that."

Burt nodded. "Carole. She's... a good person."

"She's been great to me and Sarah, since we were kids," Puck said, and Burt nodded again. He put an arm around Puck and another around Sarah, and squeezed them tight. Puck could feel him shaking.

"Okay," he said. "I'm going to make some more calls, find out as much as I can on a Saturday night. Then, when Carole gets back, I have to go back to the house to get Kurt's stuff. Do you guys need anything? Can I pick you up a toothbrush, or... or something to sleep in?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Hummel," said Sarah, and giggled.

Puck cocked his head, grinning. "I'm honestly not sure what Kurt would do to me if I wore his pajamas."

Burt hid his eyes briefly in one hand. "I'm, uh, not going to dwell on that idea. But, hey, I didn't get a chance to properly thank you - both of you, apparently - for dinner. It was delicious and I wish I'd had seconds of everything. Even the salad, and I don't even like salad."

Sarah smiled at Puck, and the two kids high-fived, bumped fists and hung on to each other's hands. "Best compliment ever," she said.

"You guys make a great team," Burt affirmed. "Now I've got to talk with Puck for a minute, okay, Sarah? Can you go into the kitchen and let Kurt know I'm heading home? I'm sure he'll have a _very_ specific list of the stuff he wants me to bring back."

"Sure," she said, giving Puck's hand a squeeze before hopping up and leaving them alone together.

Burt's face was already red when he turned to Puck.

"Don't interrupt me here," he said, low and intense. "This is hard enough. You, and Finn... you're Kurt's first boyfriends. He's never... he's never _done_ anything. With a guy, before. I get the idea that Finn... well." He rubbed the back of his neck. "That's a conversation I'll have to have with him."

"Finn and Kurt, they fooled around some," Puck said. "Before the three of us got together. But it's okay, you know? They love each other."

Burt shook his head, slowly. "I don't quite get how you can be so... fine with that."

"What, that they're doing stuff together, or that they love each other?"

"Okay, wrapping my brain around Kurt doing _anything _with _anybody..._ still gonna take some time," he said in aggravation. "Puck, I'm talking to you because I'm guessing you've had some experience with this. Just a guess, mind you. And I know Finn and Kurt, they ain't got any, except with each other." His eyes held an appeal, and Puck nodded. "Okay." Burt let out his breath. "You guys being safe?"

"Yes," said Puck evenly. "I was tested last month. I'm clean. No worries about the others, as you said."

"Well, that's something." He relaxed, visibly, and ran a hand over his head. "I'm not going to ask specifics about what you're doing, because I figure that's between you and him. Er, them." If it was possible, he turned a shade redder. "Jesus."

"Burt... I love him, too." Puck's voice was low. "I'm completely crazy about him. There's no way I'd let anything hurt him. Not ever. And Kurt, he's smart. He makes good choices."

"But that's the thing, Puck," he said. "He doesn't, when it's about his heart. He just jumps in with both feet, lets himself get swept away, and screw it if there's a riptide or sharks or... goddamn _piranhas_." He pressed his lips together. "I've watched him have crushes on boys. You don't think I didn't know about this thing with Finn? He's been mooning around him for months. I think he'd do anything to have him." His eyes burned into Puck. "Even if it hurt him. Even if it was a bad idea."

Puck didn't look away. "You think he's just saying yes to this so he can have Finn?"

"I don't know," Burt answered. "But I'm saying he wouldn't know, if it was bad for him, because he _would_ have him. And that would be the only thing that mattered... until it was too late. Until he was already hurt." He sighed. "Am I making any sense here?"

"Yeah." Puck looked at his shoes. "I'm trying not to get pissed about it, but it's been kind of a long day, and I'm thinking what you're telling me is that Kurt is using me, maybe unintentionally. And that's... a horrible thought. I don't know what I'd do if that were true." He swallowed. "But I can relate to how he's feeling about Finn, too, you know. I'd... fuck, I'd do anything to have him, too.

"But Kurt..." Puck's face softened. "No matter how _I_ feel about him - and let me just say, it's blowing my mind - he_ belongs_ with us. This week, he took some time away from us to think. Remember when he left his phone with you, and went to Mercedes' house?" Burt nodded, and Puck went on. "We, Finn and me - it just wasn't the _same._ We need him. Even more than I... need him. And that's a hell of a lot."

"I'm just asking you to look out for him," Burt said. "I know how feelings can get so complicated when you're sixteen. Believe me, I remember. Just... keep in mind what I said, okay? I want to trust you."

"I think you've got to trust _Kurt,"_ said Puck. "He wants this, too."

"But is it good for him?" Burt asked softly. "Is it really?"

Puck was silent for a moment. Then he shifted and stood. "Yes," he said, with conviction. "It is."


	24. Chapter 24

"I feel like I just ran five miles," said Finn, leaning against the counter, "and all I did was eat dinner."

Kurt plunged the last of the dishes into the rinse water and glared at the sink. "Finn, you just went up against that... that _harpy. _That'd be enough to exhaust anybody."

"You did, too," Finn pointed out. "And she's not a harpy. Whatever that is. She's just protective of Puck."

"_Protective?"_ Kurt hissed. "Finn, she said he wasn't _normal._ She called his sexuality a _fashion statement._ Parents aren't supposed to _do_ stuff like that." He threw the silverware into the sink with an angry clatter. "I can't believe you're defending her."

"She's still his mom," he said. "And she's usually not that bad. I've never seen her treat him that way, and I've known her for years. Something else is going on." He scrubbed the broiling pan pensively. "Could she be sick? Like, in her head?"

"I guess." Kurt methodically loaded the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher. "I honestly don't care. Can't you see what she's done to him? To Sarah? That poor kid... she _flinched _tonight when my dad snapped at her."

"He can be pretty scary."

"My dad?" Kurt looked skeptical, drying his hands.

"You can be, too," Finn added. "You both have that protective thing going on. I wouldn't want to get on either of your bad sides. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't come out of it in one piece."

Kurt slipped his arms around Finn's middle and stood there, leaning against him. "I just feel terrible for Noah. And... I feel really lucky to have a dad like mine." He sighed. "_And_ I feel completely guilty about it. Ack, Finn, your hands are all soapy. Watch the jacket."

"We_ are_ lucky," Finn said, wiping the suds away on a towel before hugging him. "Our parents just okayed us to have sleepovers again. Even Puck's Ma, in a way. How cool is that?"

Kurt smiled despite himself. "Yeah, I guess that's pretty fantastic."

"Although I really have no idea how we're all going to fit in my bed. We're going to have to take turns or something."

"I suspect we'll manage," Kurt said.

There was a pause. "Thinking about it is totally turning me on," Finn murmured.

"Tell me about it," Kurt whispered. He reached up and pulled Finn's head down for a kiss, and it was like they were two pieces of a puzzle, locking together, fitting perfectly into one another. They gasped a little at the shock of it.

"We're going to... need to find some way to... show Noah how much we appreciate his work tonight," said Kurt between kisses.

Finn ran his hands under the fitted torso of Kurt's tuxedo jacket. "I can think of a few ways."

"God, I can't even leave you two alone for five freaking _minutes,"_ Sarah griped from the doorway, and they broke apart, guiltily. "What, are you trying to spawn or something? Cause I don't think it works that way."

"Just you wait," Kurt threatened her. "I give you three years before you succumb to the dread forces of puberty. We're going to be the worst big brothers ever. You'll never get to be alone with any boy, mark my words."

"Ah, but you'll all be graduated and moved away by then," Sarah said, grinning wickedly. "And who says I'm waiting that long? Noah was doing it by the time he was thirteen."

"I really didn't need to hear that," Kurt said, horrified, and Finn laughed.

"Your dad told me to tell you he was going home to pick up stuff for you to spend the night," she said, taking another cupcake from the plate on the table and licking off the frosting. "He wants to know what you need. After he finishes grilling Noah. You should make a list."

"Like my dad knows a facial scrub from a pore cleanser." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll just have him bring the whole kit. So what do you do to take care of your skin?"

Sarah paused in mid-bite. "Uh, wash it?"

"With?" Kurt prompted.

"... Soap?" Sarah said, perplexed.

"You're gonna dry out your t-zone," Finn said, and they both stared at him. "What?" he said. "Kurt talks; I listen."

"Un-freaking-believable," Sarah groaned, as Kurt engulfed him in a delighted hug.

* * *

><p>Puck and Kurt were still vying for the win in Monopoly by the time Carole came through the door. Burt was waiting in the hallway. "Oh," she said, looking at him, then at his keys, "I'm sorry to make you wait... I'm sure you need to be heading home."<p>

"Forget that," he said. "We've been fine. I just need to pick up some things for Kurt at the house. He's got this moisturizing routine you wouldn't believe, and it kind of relaxes him. He'd throw a fit if he didn't have a chance to do that after an evening like this."

She smiled, looking tired. "He's an amazing kid. You've done a great job."

"Sometimes I don't know if I really did anything," said Burt. "He's so much his mother. I'm just lucky he talks to me at all."

"I'm guessing that's not just luck." She took his arm and led him into the kitchen. Her expression was hesitant. "This has been a hell of an evening for all of us, Burt. I... suspect it's not over. If I know my son, I bet they're going to need someone to talk to, later tonight."

"You're probably right," Burt said. "Kurt tends to wake up at 3am after a stressful experience and want warm milk. I'm more the middle-of-the-night-sandwich type myself."

"I'll remember that," Carole said, and blushed and looked away.

"Um." Burt scratched his head. "So... you think it would be okay if I just sacked out on the couch and waited for whoever comes downstairs and wants to talk?"

She looked relieved. "You'd be welcome to the guest room, but I'm not sure what I'd do with Sarah."

"No, really, I'll be fine on the couch," he said. His eyes flickered to the floor and back again. "Did - you get in touch with Ruth?"

She shook her head. "I'm thinking it's better if she gets some sleep before we talk again, anyway. I'm sure the more tired I get, the worse my temper will be. She's good at pushing my buttons."

"Carole, you were incredible with her," Burt protested. "I thought I was going to lose it more than once, but you, you just - " He looked down and realized he was holding her hand, and let it go. "Uh, you were great," he concluded lamely.

She smiled. "I've known Ruth a long time. Finn and Puck have been friends since grade school. They've spent lots of time at each other's houses. I don't think I'll ever be able to call her a friend, especially not after tonight, but we do have history together. I think... I think she'll come around eventually."

"You think this relationship is going to withstand her attitude?" he said, shaking his head.

"Yes," she said. "I do. They're completely in love with each other, Burt. You see it."

"Yeah, I do. You think that's enough?"

"I'm a romantic; what can I say?" She shrugged, and he took her hand again, this time deliberately. She looked startled, then smiled. _It really was a pretty smile,_ he thought.

"They're going to need all the help we can give them," he said. "And Sarah - I'm going to make some calls tomorrow, to see what I can learn about options without making a big fuss. I think Ruth needs help, but Puck and Sarah, they're skittish about involving other adults. No wonder."

She squeezed his hand. "I can help with those calls. I have a friend in social services. It's going to be okay."

They stood there together, and for a moment, Burt thought she might hug him. He held his breath, but the moment passed, and she let his hand go - somewhat reluctantly, it seemed.

"I'm going to head out," he said, indicating the door, and she nodded.

"See you soon, Burt," she said softly. "You don't need to knock when you get back. Just come on in."


	25. Chapter 25

"Let's play a game," Sarah said, taking the last truffle and settling back into Finn's dad's easy chair.

"We did play a game," said Puck. "And I won."

"What kind of game, Sarah?" Kurt asked, glaring at Puck. "And you only won because I landed on Park Place."

"Still won," he said, lacing his fingers behind his head. Kurt sighed, and moved into the space on his chest under his arm. Puck glanced down, startled, then dropped one hand down to rest on Kurt's shoulder.

"We did this at school," said Sarah. "You have to imagine what you want your life to be like in one year, in five years and in ten years. What are you going to be doing, what job will you have, and so on. If you could have everything you wanted, that is."

"This is completely fantasy? Like, I could say I get an NBA basketball contract if I wanted?" Finn looked intrigued.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Anything you want. You want to go first?"

"Okay." Finn took a bite out of his fourth cupcake and chewed thoughtfully. "One year. I'll be a junior. QB again, I hope."

"No hoping. Just say what's gonna happen," Sarah urged. "Pretend it's already real."

"Um... MVP?" She nodded encouragingly. "And all B's in everything except Glee."

"Why not all A's?" said Kurt, clearly appalled.

"A's are too much work," said Finn. "There are too many other things I want to do besides work for A's. B's are fine."

"It's his dream," said Sarah, when Kurt looked like he might object further. "You can't tell him no. What else?"

"I guess everything else the same," Finn said. "Only we're... everybody at school knows about us. And it's not a big deal." He took another bite of cupcake. Kurt automatically reached over and wiped the extra frosting off his lip with his finger, and before he could do anything else, Puck leaned in and licked the finger off. Kurt made an abortive moan.

"Focus," Sarah rolled her eyes. "What am I going to _do_ with you three? Come on. Five years from now?"

Finn tore his eyes away from Puck and Kurt and blinked several times. "Uh. College. Ohio State, or someplace, with a scholarship, basketball or football, or maybe music. You guys... living with me?" They all grinned. Kurt snuggled closer to Puck. "I'm getting good enough grades to keep my scholarship. Majoring in something cool. Oh, and can my mom get a raise?"

"This is about you, Finn," Sarah said. "But okay. Ten years?"

"In ten years I'll be... jeez. Twenty-six." He shook his head. "That sounds really old. Living close enough to my mom so I can visit, but not so close that she'd be over every day. Working... I don't know what I want to do, but it makes enough money to support the three of us... and the kids..."

"How many?" asked Kurt.

"I think I'd like a bunch. Four? And we're all happy," he added.

"Well, thank god for that," Puck drawled, "or else I'd be bored to death in Leave It to Beaver Land. I'm going next. One year: I get kicked out of school for being a badass. I get my GED and teach guitar lessons all day, make enough money to go to culinary school, like your mom was saying. Five years: I'm an awesome chef in a big city kitchen. New York, or Chicago, or - hey, San Francisco. That's really gay, right?"

"Right," Kurt choked, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Perfect. I make tons of money and you guys can do whatever the fuck you want. Ten years: I'm rich and famous and have my own cooking show. We've got a big pile of kids - four is fine, sure - and we homeschool them, so they never have to go to school. We travel everywhere and see the world and nobody messes with us because we're way too cool. The end."

"Bravo, Noah," Kurt said, patting his chest. "I'm all about big dreams. In one year, I'll be taking the PSATs and getting ready to apply to college. My grades will be good enough that I can focus primarily on Ivy League and conservatories. Glee will be gearing up to win nationals again, of course. We'll have a score of new recruits and we'll hire a real choreographer. I'll have the lead in the Lima youth community theater musical. Oh, and at least ten other kids will have come out of the closet, and the school will have implemented and enforced a non-bullying policy. No more dumpsters or slushies."

He considered the nails on his right hand. "In five years, I'll have finished two years of college, be on the Dean's list and will have landed my first big break in local professional theater. A traveling agent will discover me and want to cast me in something small, maybe a supporting role in a film, or a major commercial, nothing that would take me away from school for too long. I'll experience overnight success, but it won't go to my head."

"Of course not," Sarah said. "What about ten years?"

"I'll continue my film career, but that will just be to pay the bills. My heart will still be on the stage. I'll have a small apartment in New York and another in Hollywood, and do musicals and avant-garde theater between movie deals. I'll hold benefit performances for gay rights and anti-bullying organizations. I'll win my first Tony."

"What about us?" Finn said softly. Kurt looked at Finn, then at Puck.

"Oh - well, of course, we're - still together," he said, looking stricken. "You've got to understand, I've been having these dreams for years, and we've only been... I mean, I never thought I would have..."

"It's okay, Kurt." Puck tightened his arm around Kurt, pulling him close. "You don't have to apologize for your dreams." He glared at Finn, who gave him a quizzical look. "You go, Sarah."

"Okay," she said. "One year: I'm in middle school and I'm wildly popular, but not in an annoying way. All the kids who pick on me at school move away or get mono or something. I win the regional spelling bee and go to the semis in Columbus, where I meet the boy of my dreams and have my first love affair, but long distance so it'll be more romantic. You guys are all happy and I see you all the time."

"I thought this was about you?" Kurt said.

"It is. Five years: I'm a junior. I've got hair down to my butt. I tested out of all my classes and they let me go to college early. We bought a big house and you're all living in it with me, the three of you and Ma and Mr. Hummel and Mrs. Hudson and Timmy, and you're all in college too. We're all still happy."

"Who's Timmy?" Kurt asked.

"My oldest brother." She took the last cupcake and broke it into four sticky pieces, and solemnly passed one to each of them. They all ate it together, like they were taking communion.

"Ten years: We're on tour together. Finn, you're singing and playing drums, and Kurt, you play piano and do the choreography. Noah on guitar; I'm on bass. Timmy's doing our sound, maybe stage managing for us. We've got an album contract and we have a huge international following. Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Hummel come along with us and they're watching your kids during the day. At night we get together and eat Noah's cupcakes and play Monopoly. And we're all _still_ happy."

There was a silence. "I think Sarah wins," said Finn, grinning.

"Yeah," said Kurt. "I like that one best too."

"As long as I can still be an internationally famous chef," Puck said. Sarah considered this.

"You can plan the menus while we're on tour, but you'd have to have other people doing the cooking, or else you'd miss out on performances," she said, and he had to concede.

Kurt hesitated. "Timmy - where is he now?"

"Nobody calls him _Timmy_ except Sarah and Ma," said Puck testily. "His name's Timothy. And you really don't want to know."

"_No-_ah," Sarah sighed.

"It's embarrassing," he complained.

Finn was mystified. "What? Come on, tell us."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. He's a sound engineer for Lady Gaga."

Kurt's eyes flew open and he sat up straight. "_What?"_

"I told you it was embarrassing."

Kurt pushed Puck away from him with both hands. Puck toppled over on the couch with a mild protest. "Are you _kidding me?"_ he shrieked.

"That's why he's not around much," Sarah said. "He was on tour with her last spring. They're working on the new album now." She shook her head and yawned. "Noah just thinks she's too girly for Timmy."

"I remember Timothy being pretty tough," Finn said, stretching his legs out and resting them on the table. "I imagine he can handle anybody making fun of him for wanting to work for Lady Gaga."

Kurt was still apoplectic. He knelt on top of Puck and beat him with a couch pillow. "You know someone - you're _related_ to someone - who works with Lady Gaga and you didn't _tell_ me? Immediately?"

"Kurt, you guys have barely been on speaking terms for three weeks," Finn said. "Be reasonable."

Puck grabbed Kurt's wrists and held him easily away from his chest, then looked at Finn. "Should I be uncomfortable with this?" he asked dubiously.

"No, he's just playing," Finn said.

"No, I'm deeply annoyed," Kurt declared, ineffectively struggling to get free. "And I'm disappointed in you both, for your inability to see the genius of Gaga. She's revolutionary."

"She's totally over the top," Puck said, "and I can relate to that." He shifted Kurt's hands so they draped over his shoulders, then stood up suddenly, scooping Kurt up in both arms. "But she's also super gay." Kurt stopped struggling and made a noise of surprise as Puck kissed him, deeply and passionately.

"I don't know if you noticed this, Noah," said Kurt, a little hoarsely, when he was done, "but you're a little gay yourself."

"A little," he agreed. "Enough to want to do this." He kissed him again. Kurt's arms hesitated, then twined around Puck's neck and pulled him closer.

"In front of your sister?" Kurt whispered, his cheeks flushed.

"No worries," breathed Puck, kissing his neck. "She's asleep. See?"

"How about in front of your father?" said Burt grimly, leaning with both hands on the door frame.

Kurt swore under his breath and struggled to get down, but Puck just held onto him and swung around to grin at Burt. "Depends on which father you're talking about. _My_ father? I'm guessing it would involve a lot of name-calling and leave marks on my face."

"Puck," said Finn, stepping up behind him, and Puck put Kurt down right away. "Sorry, Mr. Hummel," Finn added.

Burt squinted at Finn, then at Puck, whose eyes were on the floor, and then finally at Kurt, disheveled and well-kissed. "It's okay," he said at last. "I said it was okay, and it's okay."

"We don't want to be insensitive," Finn said, nudging Puck.

"Sorry, Mr. Hummel," Puck echoed, not looking up.

Burt came close to Puck and put a hand on his shoulder, stepping into his line of vision until Puck finally made eye contact with him. "I'm not that father, Puck," he said firmly. "You got that? I'm not doing any of that. No matter what happens. You're safe with me."

Puck still looked wary, but he nodded. Finn touched his back. "You should put Sarah to bed, Puck," he said. "She can stay in the guest room."

Burt cleared his throat. "Actually," he said, "Carole suggested Sarah might stay in your room, Finn, so you guys can have the double bed." Before they could react to that, he added, "I'm staying, too. I'll be here on the couch, in case you need anything."

He went to Kurt and smoothed his hair. "Dad," Kurt said, but Burt shook his head.

"It's late, son," he said, and he didn't sound upset. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"We will," Kurt said. He offered a hug, which his father accepted with no hesitation, and then took Finn's hand and trudged upstairs. Puck effortlessly swung Sarah's small frame into his arms, much as he'd held Kurt, and followed behind them as the clock chimed eleven.


	26. Chapter 26

"I feel like I messed up," Kurt said, chewing his lip and watching the door anxiously as he sorted through his kit. "What just happened?"

"No," Finn sighed. "It was my deal. I should have made him go to bed a long time ago, but Sarah was here, and I wasn't sure what she was going to need from him."

"Finn, it's _our_ deal, right?" Kurt set an assortment of products out on the table and closed the case with a snap. "This was exactly what I was talking to him about this afternoon. He barely got any sleep last night, and he hasn't had anything to eat all day."

"God." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm glad he's got you looking out for him." His hand on Kurt's neck was heavy. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm -" He resisted the urge to say _fine,_ as he felt the pressure from Finn's hand. "A little overwhelmed," he admitted. The hand squeezed gently and was joined by the other hand, and Kurt relaxed into Finn's thumbs kneading his neck. "That's... very nice."

"I'm going to get to you later," Finn said, right in his ear, and he shivered. "But I need to take care of Puck first. I just want him to know we're here, that we care about him. No pressure; no blame. This wasn't his fault, and your dad said all that needed saying about it."

"I think my dad saw something," Kurt murmured. "When you spoke to Puck that way. I think he noticed. I... I just wonder what he thinks is going on."

"I know you're worried about that," Finn said. "It's not your job. I'll take care of it."

Kurt nodded, hesitantly. "I worry about _you,_ taking on too much," he said, but he was cut off by Finn's voice, speaking with authority and direction.

"No. That's not your place. You need to drop that, _now._ I'm in charge here."

Kurt shuddered, closing his eyes. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

"That's my baby," he heard, and Finn kissed him gently on his cheek, his neck. Kurt felt echoes of Noah's lips on his, just minutes before, and he responded, turning his head to meet Finn's mouth with his own. Finn stayed behind him, enclosing him in his arms, holding him tightly. He spoke calmly, quietly, with a degree of wonder.

"I... can't exactly explain it, but... I get so much out of being that for you. It's like it feeds me, as much as that awesome dinner did tonight. And you, and Puck, letting me lead. You've both taken so much shit for so long. It feels good that you let me be the one to handle it for you. It's what I want, for you to let go, to let me have control. I feel like I should be the one, thanking you."

"It's a huge relief," Kurt said, trembling. "I feel guilty, it feels so good."

"Well, I guess that's my job, to make you put down that guilt," Finn said. He hooked his chin over Kurt's shoulder. "Tell me again what all this stuff is for?"

Kurt pointed in turn. "Facial mask, scrub, cleanser, toner, overnight moisturizer." He held up a little tube. "This one's just for eyes."

"You do have incredible skin," Finn said, kissing his cheek once more before straightening up. "I think you should take care of this while I handle Puck."

"If that's what you think," Kurt said, uncertainly.

"I do. You had your turn with him earlier. Let me take my turn."

"Okay. Um." He looked up at Finn. "Yes, sir."

"And remember, I'm not done with you," Finn said, holding his gaze. "You're mine."

Kurt felt his words penetrate like a blast of heat to his skin, and he let out a gentle gasp. Finn's even, direct voice touched places in him that no one else had ever touched. Then Finn smiled at him, his sweet, crooked smile, and Kurt laughed breathlessly. "Yeah," he said, "I am."

He resisted the urge to reach for Finn, smiling back as he left the room to take care of Puck.

* * *

><p>"You know what? Make it pepperoni and mushroom, please," said Finn, pacing the hallway slowly. "We're on Cortlandt, off Baxter. Yeah. Thanks." Finn hung up his phone and realized he could hear low voices in his room. <em>No, there was just one voice,<em> he thought, listening more carefully. Puck was talking, and he sounded anxious.

"Everything was going so well," he said. "We were talking, just hanging out, and then... I fucked up. I mouthed off to Kurt's dad. It just came out. I don't know, he found us making out and I did what I fucking always do and made it a joke."

There was a silence. "No, that wasn't the problem," he said, aggravated. "He... Kurt brought up my brother. I can't talk about him." He sighed. "No, I just... it makes me remember stuff. About my dad."

Finn felt an icy pinch of fear. _No more secrets,_ he thought, and he stepped into the dark room. Puck saw him and froze, then glared at him.

"Go ahead and finish your call," Finn said quietly. He sat in his desk chair and deliberately looked away from Puck, watching Sarah sleeping in his bed. He remembered what had happened there earlier, and he wished he'd had a chance to change the sheets.

"Finn's here," he said, and he sounded pissed. "He heard me talking." He paced the room, then stopped. "No. I didn't - that's not part of... Why?" A longer silence. "Oh," he said, soberly. "I didn't think of that."

Finn stood and went to him, holding him from behind, much the way he'd just held Kurt, with his arms around his biceps, restricting his movement. He'd noticed it made Puck still and calm to be held like that. He matched his breathing to Puck's and felt him settle.

"Alex?" he asked.

"Nicole," Puck replied, shifting and leaning back. Finn felt the muscles of Puck's shoulders, his arms flexing, his ass brushing against the zipper of Finn's pants, and Finn gathered him into a firmer hold. Puck sighed.

"Okay," he said to Nicole. "I will."

"Can I talk to her?" Finn asked. "I'm just asking. You can say no."

"Yeah... sure," Puck said, hesitating only for a moment before handing the phone over.

"Hey," he said. "This is Finn."

"Well, hey there," he heard, and Nicole's voice was low and rich and a little bit scratchy, like she'd smoked too many cigarettes. "You're the one we've heard so much about."

"I can't say I've heard too much about you," he said. Puck's head rested back on his chest, and Finn placed a kiss on his temple.

"I'm guessing you've all been too busy doing wonderful things to each other to talk about Puck's summer fling," Nicole said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "You, on the other hand, came up in every other sentence when he was here. You're clearly important to him."

"Yeah," Finn said, "he's important to me, too." He nudged his cock against Puck's ass, feeling him through the thin fabric of his tuxedo pants. Puck moaned, and Sarah shifted in the bed. Finn put a brief warning hand over Puck's lips.

"I'm saying you don't have to worry about us," Nicole said. "You sound a little defensive. We love Puck like crazy, but we're no threat to you."

"I'm just taking care of what's mine," he said, and felt Puck's breathing speed up in response. "I know he cares about you too. It's... it's okay."

"I'm glad you see it that way." He heard her say, "It's Finn," to someone else. "Do you want to say hi?"

"Yeah!" said another girl's voice, drawing closer to the phone. "Hello, Finn, this is Daphne." Her tone was sweet, almost singing. It reminded him of Kurt's, a little. "We're so happy to hear things are working out between you and Puck. He's so in love with you."

"God," groaned Puck, covering his face.

"He heard you say that," Finn said, grinning. "Hi, Daphne. I wanted to thank you for your help with the flowers and candles and stuff for me and Kurt. It was really... romantic."

"It was my pleasure, honey," she said, and he felt like he'd been snuggled over the phone. "Everybody deserves a little romance, especially when things are new like this. It sounds like Kurt appreciates it in particular, hmmm?"

"Yeah, I guess he does," he said. _I'll remember that._

"Alex is at work," she said. "You'll have to meet him another time. But he's been wanting to talk to you."

"I'm a little nervous about it, to tell you the truth." Puck stiffened, and Finn tightened his arm around him. "What does he do, anyway?"

"For work, you mean?" Daphne giggled. "Don't laugh. He gives psychic readings."

"Really?" Finn said, a little too loudly, and Puck shushed him. "Like, on the phone?" he whispered.

"Yes, and in person. There's a big new age community around here. Lots of people come to Santa Fe wanting intuitive advice about their job, their love life, their future."

"Do you do that, too?" Finn was intrigued.

"Not for money," she said. "Though I read Tarot for my friends and lovers. I'm an office manager. Nicole's a bartender and waits tables."

_Lovers. These are Puck's lovers._ Finn waited to feel anxious or jealous, but, at least for the moment, he didn't. "I'm... really glad you and Puck met this summer. I get the feeling he learned a lot from you about how this all works, with... more than two. And other stuff."

"I'm glad, too, honey," said Daphne. "You'll all have to come visit, as soon as you can."

"I'd like that," said Finn. "Well, Puck's had a long day. I need to take care of him now."

"Please let him know we'll talk to him on Tuesday," she said. "It's so nice to hear your voice, Finn."

"Yours, too," he said. "Good night." He hung up the phone and set it on the dresser, and put both arms around Puck. "They said they'd talk to you on Tuesday."

Puck grunted acknowledgement.

"Do you want to tell me what all that was about?"

"Not really," Puck admitted. "Not tonight."

"All right," said Finn. "Let's go downstairs. You need to eat something."

"I'm really not hungry," Puck protested, but Finn gave him a gentle nudge into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

"You didn't eat all day," he said. "I'm not as smart about food as you and Kurt, but I know you need _something._ Go on, downstairs."

Puck stumbled a little as he walked down the steps to the family room. "Puck?" he heard his mom say. "Do you need anything?"

"We're getting a snack, Mom," said Finn. He saw Burt sitting with her on the couch, and it occurred to him suddenly that they were being awfully friendly for two people who'd only just met. He looked at them with speculative eyes.

"Do you want me to make you something?" she offered, but she didn't get up from the couch.

The doorbell rang. "It's okay," he said. "I ordered pizza."

"Pizza," Puck breathed, like it was a new concept, and he headed for the door.

Burt chuckled. "He didn't eat any dinner, did he?"

"No," said Finn. "Or lunch, or breakfast. You guys want some?"

"I'm all set, honey," Carole said, and Burt shook his head. "Is Kurt still awake?"

"He's moisturizing," Finn said, grinning at Burt's knowing look. "He'll be busy with that a while."

The front door slammed. "Here," said Puck, handing him the pizza box and making a beeline for the kitchen. "I forged the signature on the credit card receipt. What are you waiting for, man? I'm starving."


	27. Chapter 27

Puck was nearly comatose after eating four slices of pizza. Finn only ate two, and stuck the rest in the fridge for later. "It was nice to talk to Nicole and Daphne," he said, watching Puck's face, but Puck's eyes were closed and he wasn't reacting. "Do you want to see them again?"

"Sure," he said, eyes still closed. He stretched and cracked his neck to the side. "I'm not in any hurry, though. I'm kind of into what we're doing here."

"Kind of," Finn said.

"Like, really into it." He burped and flexed his toes, now free of their combat boots.

"You don't miss them?"

"Well, yeah, I do," Puck said, cracking his neck the other way, "but it's not a big deal. I said goodbye, and now I'm here."

"Just like that, huh?" Finn regarded Puck's posture, arms crossed over his chest. "And this - us? Is it a big deal?"

His eyes opened and met Finn's. "The biggest."

Finn nodded, and paused, his head to one side. "I know when we were playing that game with Sarah, you weren't going to say anything about... the other part of us. About... how we are, what we're doing." _We need a name for it,_ he thought. "But... a year from now. Do you think you'll still want it?"

"Hell, yeah." He watched Finn watching him, and his eyes flickered to the floor. "Sir."

Finn felt the thrill of the word in his gut, in his cock, and he sat forward, moving closer to Puck. "All right." He put a hand on Puck's knee. "I just needed to know. This _isn't_ a game, is it? You're not playing with me?"

"No," Puck whispered, shocked. "I wouldn't. I mean... _no,_ sir. That's not how it is."

"I know you've had some time to think about this," Finn said, feeling the intensity inside him, trying to let Puck feel it too, through his hand, in his gaze. "But it's all new for me. And I... I really want it. I'm kind of shocked by how much I want it. But I don't want it to be a problem. I don't want... _this_... to make us something you... say goodbye to."

"Finn," he said, sounding a little hurt. "You're my best friend. I... I fucking love you. And this thing... I've thought about it a long time. Longer than... well, just know I want it." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I guess I need it." He shot Finn a desperate look. "I don't _want_ to say goodbye to you, not in one year, not in five, or ten. You don't do that to your best friend."

Finn felt profound relief, chased by a new fear. "But there's Daphne, and Nicole, and... Alex," Finn said. "We were talking about being exclusive, just the three of us... but you still love them. What happens to them?"

"I guess that's up to you," Puck said. "I figured you'd tell me... sir. What do you want me to do?"

Finn thought in silence for a minute. He felt Puck's question inside him. _What do I want him to do?_ Then he thought, _What would be best for the three of us?_ And he knew.

"I want us to talk to Kurt about it," he said. "This isn't a decision I can make myself. I need to hear you talking together, to listen to what you both think, and tell you what I think, and we can figure it out together. Soon."

"Yes, sir," Puck said. Finn hadn't even realized he was still tense, but he felt himself relax, too. He squeezed Puck's knee.

"Let's go upstairs," he said. "There's something I want you to do for me."

"Anything," Puck said, his eyes glittering. "Sir." Finn leaned forward and kissed him, long and hard. Puck brought his hand down to feel Finn's erect cock through his pants, stroked him eagerly, groping for his neck to pull him down closer, and Finn found himself suddenly, absurdly close to climax.

"Wait," he gasped, fighting for control. "Not here. Not yet."

"You haven't come all day," Puck coaxed, his hands roving over Finn's body, making him feel faint. "You gotta give in sometime. And I'm sure you'll be ready again... very soon..."

"_Stop." _Finn's hands shot out and gripped Puck's wrists, pinning him to the chair. Puck didn't struggle. He went limp, and turned his head to the side, flinching away from Finn. The look on his face was not playful, not aroused, but scared. Finn immediately let go of his wrists and stepped back.

"What was that?" Finn said, cautiously, after an uncomfortable silence.

His face was horrified. "I... I don't know," he said, and stood, stumbling away, a hand to his mouth. "Finn?" Puck knocked into the chair in his hurry to get out of the kitchen, and it fell with a crash as he ran.

"Puck? Are you okay?" Finn heard his mom call, then heard the door open, slam shut.

Finn walked out of the kitchen slowly, feeling a tremendous weight on his chest, and an equal amount of guilt in his stomach.

Carole was there in front of him. "Finn, what happened?"

"I did something," he said, "and Puck freaked out."

"What was it about?" She touched his arm. "What can I do?"

Finn felt abruptly caught between two opposing worlds. There was the world of his childhood: this house, his mother, his father's chair, his bedroom with the cowboy wallpaper. This old, familiar world was now juxtaposed with a brand-new world, one in which he had lovers, _two_ of them, two young _men,_ both of whom were, incredibly, willing to submit to his dominance. And he had just done something to one of them; something awful. _I was supposed to be taking care of him,_ he thought, _but instead I made him feel... bad. _He was immediately sick and ashamed.

"Mom," he said, with painful deliberation, "I don't think you can help with this."

He didn't move, but he knew she could sense the space he was placing between them. It loomed, a painful and necessary gulf of distance. She dropped his arm, letting him go. "Okay, honey," she said quietly.

Finn made his way upstairs to find Kurt, hardly noticing where he was walking. He felt like he'd aged ten years, and it sucked.

* * *

><p>It was still a warm night for November, and even at midnight, Puck should have been warm enough in his long-sleeved tux shirt and vest, but he was shivering. Wrapping his arms around his knees didn't seem to help. He rocked a little on the curb, feeling the gravel poking into his feet through his thin socks. It was good to feel something, at least.<p>

"Sweetheart," he heard a soft voice call, but it wasn't for him, so he didn't answer.

"Noah," he heard, closer, and he looked up at Kurt's concerned face. Kurt sat beside him on the curb. He had changed from his dress clothes into sweatpants and a hoodie. He'd missed a little cream on his face near his ear. Puck reached up and wiped it away, remembering Kurt doing something similar with Finn earlier.

"Finn," Puck said, but it came out in barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Where is he?"

Kurt put an arm around his waist and sat very close beside him. "He wasn't sure if you'd want to see him, so I came."

"Why?"

Kurt seemed confused by the question, so Puck elaborated: "Why wouldn't I want to see him?"

"You ran away from him, sweetheart," Kurt said quietly.

"I wouldn't do that," he said, but then he remembered doing just that, minutes earlier, and he choked on the sob that came on the heels of the memory.

"Don't kiss me," he said, remembering something else. "I puked into Mrs. Hudson's azalea bush."

"Noah," Kurt said, "what happened?"

"I don't know," he said automatically, but he knew he owed Kurt a better answer than that. He struggled to put words to the shame and fear and appalling confusion in his head. "We were making out. It was getting heavy and Finn told me to wait. I - I pushed him."

"You pushed him away?"

"No, I pushed him to... keep going." He was racked by a sudden shiver. Kurt moved closer still, pressing his body against Puck's side. Puck felt his warmth, and tucked his hand into Kurt's, and took a deep breath before continuing. "Finn told me to... stop. He held me down... held my hands."

"Did that scare you?"

"I guess." He dug into his memory, trying to remember what exactly had occurred. "It doesn't seem scary now. He knows I... I like that. And it's not the first time he's done it, so I don't know what the big deal was this time. Jesus. _I don't know."_ The words came out in a frustrated whine. "God dammit, I'm such a fucking _loser."_

"Noah," Kurt snapped, and took his face in both hands, forcing Puck to look at him. Puck saw the fire in Kurt's eyes, and he made a small, helpless noise. "You will give that up _right now,_ do you understand? This is not under your control. You can't treat your feelings and memories like a recipe. They don't always come out the way you plan, and you have to roll with that."

Kurt slipped one hand down to Puck's chest, under his vest, leaving the other to cradle his cheek. He stroked him gently. "And, for god's sake, you're running away, just like I did. I won't tolerate that. Come inside and let us take care of you."

"I can't," he said, shivering. "Not until I figure this out."

"You're not going to figure it out by yourself in the middle of the night," Kurt said. "Come on." He stood and tugged Puck, unwilling, to his feet.

They stumbled down the dim street together. There was no streetlight, no discernible moon, and nearly all the houses had turned out their porch lights, leaving them in near-dark. The white sidewalk was barely lighter than the lawn on either side.

"If I kill myself by tripping over a rock or an inline skate or something, I'll never forgive you," Kurt said.

"I can kind of see where I'm going," said Puck. "Maybe we have to be in complete darkness before we can really see our path."

Kurt paused, then continued walking, lacing his fingers through Puck's. "Noah, that was remarkably insightful."

"It would have been more insightful if you'd brought a flashlight, genius," he said, and squeezed Kurt's hand.

* * *

><p>Finn's chest constricted as Puck and Kurt came through the door. He made himself look at Puck first, and the expression he saw gave him a little room to breathe. "Hey," he said.<p>

"Finn," Puck said, hesitating. His eyes were dark and haunted.

Finn walked to him, opening his arms, and Puck fell right into them, burying his face into his chest. Finn's hands went to Puck's head and his back, holding him tight, and it was impossible not to let the tears go.

"That's my boy," Finn whispered, for Puck's ears alone. "So good."

Puck shook his head, burrowing deeper into Finn's shirt, crying silently. "No," he said, his voice ragged. "Not so good."

"Are you questioning my judgement?" Finn said, a little louder. _I would, if I were you,_ he thought, but knew this was not the time. Puck needed him to be strong, mistakes and all.

"No, sir," Puck sighed. "You just don't know everything. If you did... I don't think you'd agree to do... _this..._ with me."

Finn met Kurt's eyes over his shoulder. _You might be right, _he thought. Kurt came up behind Puck and joined their embrace, and Puck relaxed a fraction more.

"I think it's time for bed," Kurt said. He herded them upstairs, past the couch where Burt and Carole were determinedly _not_ watching them, and into the bathroom. He turned the shower on hot and all but brushed Puck's teeth for him while Finn helped him out of his clothes. Puck submitted to it all willingly, too tired to complain or even comment.

Finn watched Kurt take off his own clothes, fold them neatly and set them aside before helping Puck into the shower. Finn sat on the lid of the toilet. "I'll wait for you here," he said.

"Oh, no," Kurt said firmly. "You're coming in too."

"You think we're going to fit all three of us in that shower?" he said, although the question that was really going through his mind was, _does he really want me there?_

"Yes," Kurt said, and Finn knew there was no possible way of out-stubborning him. Finn sighed and stepped in.

Kurt entered on the other side, sandwiching Puck between them again. Puck just stood there under the torrent of water, not resisting as they soaped under his arms and scrubbed his back. They made sure to cover every inch of his body in gentle touches, murmuring words of praise: _good boy_ and _sweetheart_ and _so beautiful_. Puck let out a few shuddering sighs and relaxed against Finn as Kurt stroked his soapy cock to full attention.

"You sure this is okay?" Finn asked. Puck nodded, reaching back over his shoulder and putting a hand on Finn's cheek. It was the most tender thing Finn had ever seen Puck do, and it made his insides crumple up into a little ball.

Kurt let the water wash away all the bubbles before kneeling before Puck on the floor of the tub. Finn made sure to block the spray from Kurt's face with his back, unable to look away as Kurt gathered Puck closer to him, placing wet kisses along his stomach and using his tongue to draw patterns around his navel. Finn almost felt guilty for enjoying it so much, until Kurt looked up, and Finn saw the mirrored desire in Kurt's eyes.

"Love you," Kurt said, and Puck breathed "Kurt," at the same time that Finn said "Baby." Kurt shook his head in disbelief and laid his forehead against Puck's thigh for just a moment before taking him into his mouth.

"God, Kurt," Puck moaned, and Finn found himself holding Puck's weight in his arms, supporting him, as Kurt's lips and tongue wrapped Puck's cock with firm, moist pressure.

"You're a very lucky boy," Finn said, bracing himself against the side of the tub to provide better support. "This is what Kurt wants. What you have to do is let him love you, let him suck you, let him make you feel amazing. You want it, don't you?"

"Yeah, want it, so bad," Puck said, arching his back, his hands going up to grip Finn's shoulders while his hips thrust into Kurt's mouth. "Want to give it to you, want your cock in my mouth, _sir_ -"

"I know you want that," Finn said, feeling dizzy. All his attention was on Kurt's mouth around Puck, watching what he did, trying to remember everything so he could recreate it later, but the memory of Puck doing that to _him_ was incredibly distracting. "I love it, love it so much, but right now - this isn't about you, or me. It's about what Kurt wants. You want to give him what he wants, right?"

"Yes, sir - _fuck, _yes - want to give you everything you want, anything..." Puck's eyes were almost closed, his upper body relaxed, his head resting on Finn, while his lower body grew more taut, more tense with every rhythmic motion Kurt made. Finn heard Kurt's approving noises and saw him slow down his pace a little, drawing out each stroke, which just made Puck moan harder.

"Kurt's in control of your dick," he said, putting his lips right against Puck's ear, so he only had to speak in a low murmur to be heard, even over the sound of the shower. "He gets to decide if you come or not. You don't have any say, none at all. You're going to have to ask him - to beg him - beg him if you want to come."

"Oh, God, sir," Puck gasped.

"Look at him," Finn directed into his ear, and Puck looked, bucking helplessly at the sight of Kurt's sweet lips around him, and Kurt's eyes, warm and wide. "He's doing just what he wants to do with you. You're being such a good boy."

"I'm - I'm close, sir," Puck whispered, still watching.

"You'd better ask for what you want, then," Finn said. "Make him hear you."

"Please, sir, please, I need to come," Puck spoke, loud enough for Kurt to hear. Kurt made a sound of encouragement and slowed his pace still further. Puck's breath was coming in short, sharp pants, and he watched Kurt's face with desperate need. "God, please, let me come - it's all yours, you've got control, it's always been yours, _please -_-"

Kurt looked somewhat alarmed at this flood of words from Puck's mouth, but it was having a definite effect on both of them, and even as Kurt gave his consent with a short nod, he reached between his legs to squeeze his own cock. "Go on," Finn said, quick and sharp, "he said yes. Come for him. _Do it."_

"God, yes, it's for you, sir - all for you," Puck cried, making one last thrust, and Finn had no idea if it was him or Kurt that Puck was talking to. _It didn't matter,_ he decided, watching with a deep satisfaction as Puck gave it all up for Kurt, and Kurt took every drop.

Finn turned off the water and helped Puck step with shaking legs over the edge of the tub. They sat him on the lid of the toilet and dried him off, stopping to kiss him and let his head rest on their bodies.

"Holy shit," Puck said, laughing, clearly relieved. "That was incredible." He leaned his head back against the cool wall, relaxed at last.

It took both of them to get him back to the bed in the guest room. About thirty seconds after his head hit the pillow, he was snoring. Kurt and Finn collapsed on either side of him, exhausted.

Kurt's eyes met Finn's over Puck's sleeping form. "How did you know?" he said, quietly.

"Know what?" Finn asked, stroking Kurt's fingertips, resting on Puck's chest.

"Know what he needed? After what happened, I was scared to offer anything more - I was just going to - well." Kurt smiled faintly, licking his lips, and Finn chuckled. "I figured he just wanted to be loved. I didn't want to push him."

"But he needs that." Finn propped himself up on his elbow. "He _needs_ to be pushed, to get him where he wants to go."

"And where's that?"

Finn thought. It was hard to put what he knew about Puck, through years of play and fighting and friendship, into words. "To... to give up control, to let it go. He wants someone else to tell him what to do. If he has to be in charge for too long, he gets... antsy. I always picture a pop bottle where someone shook it, and the fizz is all stuck in there, with no place to go. Eventually, it's going to blow up. That's what happened with your dad tonight."

"He was in rare form," Kurt agreed. "I thought my dad was going to flip out, but he was fine. He handled Noah."

"I think your dad gets it, on some level," Finn said. "So do you, baby. You understand just what Puck needs."

"It's a little frightening, to be so responsible for another person. But I know what you meant, earlier, when you said you get something out of it. When I see him hurting, I just want to - take care of him." Kurt pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and rubbed. "Noah Puckerman," he mused. "The oppressor and the oppressed."

"You're so tired," Finn said. "Let's just go to bed."

"I - what? No way!" Kurt's eyes flew open, and he looked distressed for just a moment, until he saw the teasing look on Finn's face. He climbed over Puck's comatose body and straddled Finn, tickling his ribs. Finn clutched at his sides, protecting his underarms, and protested as quietly as he could.

"I don't know how you're holding out," Kurt confessed, his invasive fingers becoming gentle caresses, moving across Finn's stomach. "This morning with me, and in the kitchen, and - the shower? That's a lot of... stimulation." His eyes roved down Finn's chest, his abdomen, to his still-hard cock, then back up to Finn's face. He chewed on his swollen lip. "What happened to the guy I was fooling around with a couple weeks ago, who came at the drop of a hat?"

"I don't really know," Finn admitted. "I'm kind of surprised at myself."

Kurt's face was sober. "You're different now than you were a week ago, aren't you?"

"Something's changed," Finn agreed. "I don't know what, exactly. Do you remember that song you sang in Glee, the one for the diva-off with Rachel?"

"Yes, Finn," Kurt said, smiling. "I remember."

"It's kind of like that. I really have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm just - going for it. Trusting my instincts." He sighed. "But I think I need some help. I'm messing up too much. I need to talk to somebody who's done this before. My mom wanted to help, and as cool as she is, I don't think she's ready to give me advice on this. Or your dad."

Kurt swallowed, turning red. "Um... _no._ Thank you. I don't think my dad needs to know… what we're doing. I don't think he'd get it."

Finn shrugged. "I don't know. I think he would. Didn't he ever spank you, when you were a kid?"

"A real spanking? Just once," Kurt said. "I never really did much that would make him want to. And, honestly, I think he thinks I'm too delicate for that." He grinned at Finn's snort. "What?"

"Delicate," Finn said, grabbing Kurt's arms, "is not the word I would use."

"What word _would_ you use?" teased Kurt, easily twisting out of Finn's grip and grabbing his arms in return. He forced them up and over Finn's head, leaning over him.

Like a magnet, Finn's eyes locked to Kurt's. For one moment, he let all the emotion, every bit of desire and adoration he felt for Kurt show on his face, and it clearly rocked Kurt's world because he stopped breathing. The teasing look slipped from his face, leaving only naked shock.

"You're fucking beautiful," Finn growled. "And you're mine."

Kurt's mouth moved, a gentle flutter, but no sounds came out. Held under the weight of Kurt's body, by the strength of his hands, Finn felt powerful, in control, and he knew Kurt felt it, too.

"Finn," Kurt said at last. Hearing Kurt speak his name like that, with such passion and wonder, did things to Finn's insides that he couldn't explain. He felt like he was floating off the bed. His hands, still trapped in Kurt's grip, tingled.

"I'm going to tell you something," he said, unblinking, watching the pupils of Kurt's blue eyes dilate, his breath come faster over his lips. "About what you and I and Noah are going to do. Not tomorrow, but soon. This week." He let his lip twitch, just a little, and Kurt's gaze flickered to his mouth. "Are you ready to hear it?"

"Yes," Kurt breathed.

"Say again?" Finn said, sharply.

"Oh - yes, _sir,"_ Kurt said, still pressing Finn's arms down to the bed. Finn arched his back a fraction, making Kurt's cock twitch, and Kurt stammered out a curse.

"Yes," Finn said. "That's right." He considered Kurt, his flushed face, his erection hovering over Finn's belly. "This is not a request," he added. "You're going to do this. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," he said again, more quickly this time, and closed his eyes. "Yes. I will."

"Oh, yes, you will," Finn said, hearing the words come from his own mouth with a clarity of purpose. He didn't know exactly where they were coming from, but they were taking Kurt where he needed to go. "You're going to lay in this bed, much the way I'm lying right now, here, on your back. You'll be naked, and freshly showered. Can you imagine it?"

"Yes, sir," Kurt said, his eyes still closed, hovering over Finn, rocking forward a little, his body drifting in a haze of listening.

"That's my baby," Finn said. "P - Noah will come to you. He'll undress for you. You like to look at him? You like his body?"

"Yes - yes, sir." Kurt made a small noise as Finn tightened the muscles of his abdomen and rocked up against him, just a little, then again, subtle and slow. Finn could feel his cock drawing up, tight against his belly.

"That's good. I like it when you watch him." He watched Kurt's tongue graze his lips, and remembered those lips around Puck's cock, around his own, and had to take a few deep breaths before continuing. "Noah... will kneel before you, here at the foot of this bed, and you're going to let him use his tongue... to open you up, to make you ready."

"Oh," Kurt said, small and amazed. "Yes. Yes, please." He continued rocking, a tiny motion, barely moving.

"I'm not asking," Finn said clearly. "I'm telling you. He's going to make his fingers wet, slick with lube, and you're going to let him slide them into you, one at a time." He turned his head to the side, watching Puck sleeping on the pillow next to him, remembering Puck doing just this for him, and absolutely blowing his mind. "You're going to feel him deep inside you, baby."

Kurt groaned, long and low, and arched into Finn, coming down on his elbows, resting on top of Finn's arms. His hands clutched Finn's wrists convulsively.

"Understand?" he said.

"Yes," said Kurt, his chest heaving. "Yes, sir."

Finn rocked his own hips in time with Kurt's rolling thrusts. "Do you want to know what's going to happen next?"

"Please," he begged. "God, please, sir."

His lips brushed Kurt's cheek as he turned his head. He felt their breath mingle, and each gasp Kurt made was an explosion in his gut. "Noah's going to fuck you," he said, letting him feel the force of his words. "I'm going to watch him do it. And you... you're going to _love it."_

"Oh, my god," Kurt whimpered. "Finn."

"Baby," Finn said, with infinite love. "You can come now, baby. Come on."

Finn's mouth claimed Kurt's in a fierce kiss, muffling Kurt's cries as he thrust and jerked against Finn's stomach, covering their bodies with white, thick streams. Finn felt his own body kick the heat up about six notches - hearing Kurt satisfied, feeling him grinding against him, was just about the hottest thing in the world - and it just took two quick, decisive thrusts before he was shooting right along with him. Beside them, Puck moaned and shifted in his sleep. Then all of them were still for several long moments.

"So, what do you think?" Finn said at last, conversationally, his head spinning. "How's Tuesday look for you?"

"Sure," Kurt panted, a boneless, sticky heap on Finn's chest. "Yeah, sure, Tuesday. That'd be good."

"It's a date," Finn said, and planted a happy, dazed kiss on Kurt's head. He stretched his arms, loosening them from Kurt's ineffectual grip, and brought them down around him, holding him, loving him, owning him. _Mine, _he thought, fierce and sure.

"Yours," Kurt sighed, surprising him.

"How'd you know what I was thinking?" he asked.

"I didn't." Kurt tipped his neck far enough and rolled his eyes up to meet Finn's. "But - I've always been yours, you know."

"Wow," Finn said, blinking. "Really?"

"Yeah," Kurt said, lazily tracing patterns in the goop sticking them together. "Really."

They turned their heads and looked at Puck, who'd rolled toward them in his sleep. His hand lay open on the bed, and Kurt twined their fingers for a moment and squeezed. Puck breathed in and out, a happy sound.

"I hope we just gave him good dreams," Finn said, grinning.

* * *

><p>His dreams weren't exactly good ones, but Puck seldom had good dreams. The best ones were those in which there was a plot, and he got to watch the story, like a movie - even if it was a horror movie. He sometimes woke up from those with a kind of pride, thinking <em>Wow, I'd buy a ticket to that movie. I'd even take Finn. It could be a date. We haven't gone out on a date yet. <em>The pleasant sensation of that thought muffled the heart-thumping terror of his dream, and he lay there in the bed, appreciating the feeling.

He opened his eyes, wondering if Kurt liked horror movies. It was the middle of the night. Finn and Kurt lay beside him, nestled like spoons, Finn's hand curled protectively over Kurt's chest. Finn's hair was wet and they were clean, but the room smelled like sex, and Puck knew they'd done _something_ after his shower. He grinned and sighed contentedly.

He propped himself up on his elbows, feeling for his phone on the nightstand, and checked the time. 4:41 am. His stomach rumbled, and he did some quick math: _ten pieces, minus the four I puked up, minus the two Finn ate, equals... a midnight snack._

Puck swung his legs out of the bed and walked, naked, down to Finn's room. He made the assumption that no one else would be awake at this time of night, except Sarah, and she'd seen him naked enough times that he wasn't worried about it. When he thought about some of the stuff they'd seen together, a little nudity wasn't much by comparison.

He rummaged in Finn's upper right hand drawer, where Carole still put Finn's underwear, and found a pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt.

"Want some pizza?" he said quietly.

Sarah stirred, brushing her curly hair back from her face. His'd be curly, too, if he ever let it grow again. Which he totally _wouldn't,_ or he'd end up looking like the douchy anthropologist on that old cop show. "Sure," she said, and pushed back the covers.

They stole downstairs silently, not bothering with lights. Puck knew the house as well as he knew his own. There was the lamp with the broken piece, that he and Finn had run into while playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when they were nine. There was the current framed school picture of Finn, under which was stored every previous picture he'd ever had taken for school, including the one from sixth grade where Finn had braces and refused to smile with teeth, so he ended up just making his lips go up and looked like a total dweeb. There was the bench with the hidden compartment underneath, that Puck had hidden in for three hours while playing hide-and-seek, and Finn _still_ didn't know where he'd been. Puck wasn't going to tell him, either.

They passed the family room on the way to the kitchen. "Noah," Sarah whispered, pointing at the couch. "Look."

"Squirt," he said quietly, "run up and get my phone. It's on the dresser in Finn's room."

She obliged, racing up the stairs without making a sound. He contemplated Burt and Carole, sleeping together on the couch, Burt slumped against Carole's shoulder, her hand resting loosely on his thigh. When Sarah placed the phone in his hand, he briefly considered that this might be a bad idea, but he couldn't resist. _If it's a punishable offense,_ he thought, grinning as he snapped the picture, _I'll take my lumps. This one is a keeper._


	28. Chapter 28

The dream was so vivid, Finn could have sworn it was real. The light was hazy and a little bright to his sleep-muddled vision, but he squinted until his eyes adjusted.

The first thing he saw were two thighs sliding over one another, rhythmically rubbing, right on the bed close to his face. They moved slowly and deliberately, one pale and dusted with light hair, the other dark and sharply defined, in a languid seesaw motion, like the rocking of a large boat on a gentle ocean.

Next he became aware of the sounds. There were two voices, one high and breathy, the other low and hesitant. At first he heard only their tone, their duet washing over him, but then words crept through his haze: _yes_ and _want you_ and _love this._

And then he heard another word, one that roused him completely, and he realized he wasn't dreaming after all: _Finn._

"Should we wake him up?" said the low voice.

"Not yet," the breathy voice replied. "He's so gorgeous like this."

Finn tried hard not to move the muscles of his face, so as not to betray his conscious state with movement. He lay still, as best he could, but he couldn't do anything about the blush on his cheeks, or the surge of blood to other places in his body.

The low voice groaned. "God, you drive me crazy."

"You just love my cock," said the breathy voice, and Finn almost flinched at the bossy, take-charge attitude, spoken in this voice, the voice of his Kurt.

"Yeah, I do," said the low voice, with desperation. "Are you going to give it to me? I don't think I can wait much longer."

"Patience, Noah," Kurt purred. Finn could imagine Kurt's expression, looking down on Puck, and he nearly peeked to see if he was right, but he decided he could wait. _Patience, indeed, _he thought.

The gentle rocking continued, and Finn began to wonder what exactly they were doing. "We are going to wake him up, right?" Puck said. "I don't think I can do that to him again."

_Again?_ Now Finn was more than curious. "We won't do it without him, sweetheart," Kurt soothed. "And this is nothing like that. He _wants_ us to be together. And he wants to watch."

Puck groaned louder, but Kurt didn't pick up the lazy pace; if anything, he slowed down a fraction. "Finn, watching us... _God,_ that's hot."

"You've been dreaming about him watching you for a long time," Kurt said, and hearing it said in his sweet, silky voice took it to the level of voice porn for Finn. He was transfixed, listening to Kurt seduce Puck with his voice. He may have whimpered a little, but the others didn't notice if he did. "How long has it been?"

"Years," Puck said, and the admission was thrilling, especially against the backdrop of rhythmic panting and stroking. It was like Finn's own customized wet dream. "I can't remember a time when I didn't dream about him. That fucking smile. His hands. _Yeah,_ Kurt, that feels so good."

"So many times, I woke up hard, thinking about him," said Kurt, and it was almost too much for Finn to hear. He bit his lip and deliberately did_ not_ grind into the bed, not even a little, or he might have come right there. "But I figured there was no way he was going to notice me."

"I know," said Puck. "Me, either. And now - do you ever feel like you might be dreaming all of this? Like it's still just a dream?"

"All the time," Kurt agreed. "I can't believe it, most days. I worry I'll wake up and it'll all be something I made up. Finn, you, everything."

"It's not, though, right?" Puck was pleading now. "It's real? _He's_ real?"

Finn couldn't stand it any longer. He lurched up, out of the tangled sheets, onto his knees, looming over the two joined forms.

"Do I look real enough to you?" he rumbled, his early morning voice sounding so much lower and so much more gravelly that it was almost unfamiliar to his ears. Kurt gasped and they stopped what they were doing, but now Finn could see, and it made him delirious.

Kurt's erection was slicked up with something slippery - Finn's mind imagined Crisco, because he'd used it on himself once, and it was perfect, oily and never sticky - and was buried in the tight channel made by Puck's thighs, clamped firmly together, his ankles crossed. Kurt's hand had Puck's cock in an equally tight grip. He watched as Kurt's cock disappeared once more into that space below Puck's balls, and he took a shuddering breath, looking hard at Kurt. "You're not..."

"We're not," Kurt quickly assured him. "We know... you're in charge of that." He ducked his head. "Sir."

Puck was white with tension and fear and anxious need. Finn reached down and clasped one of his hands firmly. "And you apparently know... I like to watch."

Some of Puck's white went pink, and he stammered out a vague, "Yes sir."

He returned to Kurt. "Somebody's been telling stories about what we'll be doing later this week," he mused, still enjoying the way his voice sounded in the morning, hovering in his lower register. _Maybe I'll sound like that all the time, in a few years,_ he thought, delighted with the idea. He made his gaze go steely. "What made you think that was your story to tell?"

"I - I'm sorry," Kurt said, clearly abashed, but Puck spoke up right away.

"That was my fault, sir. Don't blame Kurt. I pretty much made him tell me. I... I was asking for it, and he told me I had to wait, until... Tuesday." He looked up at Finn, no fear showing now. "He didn't do anything wrong."

_He's totally taking the fall for Kurt,_ Finn thought, amazed, looking between the two of them. Kurt's awed smile indicated he realized it too, and he gathered Puck up into his arms, kissing him hard, driving the breath from his body.

"Well, then," Finn said, standing slowly beside the bed. His own erection bobbed in front of him, and they both watched him in apparent fascination as he idly stroked it, looking at them. He felt a rush of heady excitement under their scrutiny, and he fought back a grin.

He put a hand on Kurt's back, scratching a red path down his white skin with his blunt nails, and Kurt moaned and leaned into his hand. When he got to Kurt's round behind sticking up in the air, he stroked it a little. There were no marks from yesterday. He gave it a short, sharp _smack,_ enough to startle both Puck and Kurt into making a noise, but Finn didn't mean it to be more than a little sensation, and he didn't continue.

"This..." He trailed his fingers down Kurt's hips, along the line where his cock disappeared between Puck's legs, and enjoyed the reaction from both of them. "This is really awesome," he admitted, shaking his head in wonder. "I'm kind of loving it. I'm loving listening to you, watching you two together. It's the biggest turn-on ever."

He brought his face down beside theirs, along the bed, smiling at them, turning his head to kiss first Puck, then Kurt, then a strange mixture of both of them at once that made them all crack up. The tension had broken, and that was fine.

He held Puck's eyes momentarily. "I'll deal with you later, boy."

Puck grinned. "Don't I know it, sir," he said, and gasped as Kurt sat up and resumed stroking him - apparently making up for lost time, because he picked up the pace a little. Kurt's back bent and he arched into Puck, and with every thrust Puck made a louder moan.

"I'd better keep him quiet," Finn said to Kurt, and used his thigh to push the bed away from the wall, stepping into the space left behind, so he was facing Kurt. "Or else your dad's going to wonder what we're up to."

"I'm pretty sure he's already made some assumptions," Kurt said, his ears red.

"Push him up to the top of the bed," he told Kurt, and together, they wrestled Puck so that his head was hanging off the edge, upside-down.

"What the fuck, Finn?" Puck said, and then he got it, and his eyes went wide.

"That's sir to you," Finn said, kindly. "Now open up. I'm going to help you control those noises coming out of your mouth. And you're going to thank me when I'm done."

Puck's eyes rolled and he moaned again as Finn leaned over him and filled his mouth with his cock. The angle was perfect, and Puck had no trouble letting Finn in deep, so much easier than he'd been able to before. Finn took a steadying breath and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Puck's incredible lips and tongue and the hot tight channel of his throat.

He looked directly into Kurt's eyes and was even able to lean in for a kiss. They both gave experimental thrusts, watching Puck carefully to make sure he wasn't in any discomfort, but he seemed to be in a total state of bliss. "This is unbelievable," Kurt breathed.

"You're my baby," Finn said, his whole body humming with pleasure and stimulation. "This is definitely real. I'm not a dream, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Kurt murmured.

They were all somewhat languid and reasonably satisfied from the night before, and they all seemed content to let it build slowly, Kurt and Finn moving their hips, Puck feeling their excitement from both ends, while Kurt set the pace with his hand on Puck's cock. It was a glorious dance, sweet and scorchingly hot.

"Puck," Finn said, looking down into Puck's heavy-lidded, glazed eyes. "You like this?"

Puck couldn't nod, couldn't speak, but made a little grunt, and Finn took that as a yes. "You feeling me? You feel how real this is?" Another grunt, his eyes adoring. Finn felt absurdly, ridiculously happy to have those eyes looking at him that way.

"Good. 'Cause you're my boy. I don't want you to forget it." He felt himself getting close, and he rocked a little deeper into Puck's wide mouth. "You ready?"

There was a pause, and Puck closed his eyes. He could do little else. Finn smiled at Kurt and said, "I'd love to watch you come. Both of you. _Now."_

"Oh," Kurt whispered, watching in amazement as Puck bucked up into Kurt's fist, shooting across his own chest. He bit his lip and made a little surprised gasp, and thrust hard against Puck. "God, Finn," he said, catching himself on his hands as he collapsed forward. "How do you _do _that?"

Finn had no words, just enough presence of mind to brace himself against the bed before he came into Puck's mouth. _It wouldn't do to smother him,_ he thought through the blinding, exploding pleasure, and began to laugh.

He felt hands, helping him withdraw gently from Puck, guiding him back to the bed, and Kurt made him lie down before his wobbly legs collapsed under him. With a delighted "oof!" Kurt landed next to him, putting Finn in the middle.

Puck was wiggling his jaw and rolling his neck. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Finn said, with no small amount of anxiety. "I mean, you seemed to like it, but -"

"I'm fine," Puck said, somewhat hoarsely, smiling and wiping his mouth. "More than fine. That was fucking _brilliant._" Then he shifted on the bed. "And, jeez. I'm just one big wet spot."

Finn turned to Kurt, whose eyes were glowing at them both. "You're forgetting something, sweetheart," Kurt prompted. "Come on... one last thing you were supposed to do."

"Oh -" Puck sat up, looking at Finn, and then, like a huge dog who doesn't realize he's not a puppy anymore, he crawled right into Finn's lap and curled up against his chest, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he said, happily. "Thank you so much, sir, for letting me suck your fucking awesome cock."

The laughter rose up again in Finn, but at the last second he found tears on his cheeks, and he realized he was crying. "God," he said, and then he couldn't stop. He clutched Puck to him and drew in a gasping sob.

"Finn," Kurt said, concerned, rising up on his knees and holding him from behind.

"I'm - _god._ I'm all right," he said, but the tears continued to come, and he just squeezed his eyes shut tight and hung on, feeling their bodies, the warmth of their breath, the touch of their fingers.

When he could speak, he tried to explain, wiping his eyes. "I never really had much in the way of dreams," he said. "You heard me in Sarah's game. I just want... simple things, you know? A job, a family." He stroked Puck's head. "A home. And... and now I want... just _this. _I just want this. I want the two of you, loving each other, letting me take care of you. I had no idea this was my dream. It was like... I was asleep, all this time, but now I'm awake."

He felt Kurt's lips against his cheek, kissing away his tears, and he put a hand up to touch his face. "God," he said, his voice breaking. "I love you so much."

"We love you, too, Finn," Kurt said, and Puck nodded against Finn's chest.

Finn wasn't sure how long they sat there like that, but it was long enough for the wet spot to get cold and for his stomach to start growling. "Mmmm. I bet it's long past breakfast."

"Shower," said Puck, "then clean clothes. Then I'll make omelettes while you guys run and pick up some donuts."

"Sounds perfect," Kurt said, grinning at Finn. "Make mine cake donuts."

"Yes, please," said Finn, kissing him. "I'll have two."


	29. Chapter 29

Burt took the last of the glazed donuts and leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes briefly. "Well, at least I don't have to go in to the garage today," he said. "I'm sure I'd mess up somebody's car, with as little sleep as I got. I have no idea how you all can function like this."

"We're kids," said Sarah. "Well, at least I am. We're made out of bouncy stuff."

Carole fussed with Finn's hair. "I think we can say with confidence that you guys are no longer kids," she said, somewhat sadly.

"We still like kid stuff sometimes, though," said Finn, leaning into his mom's touch. "I mean, I like dessert. It seems that grownups never eat dessert. Do I have to give that up now?"

"No," said Puck and Kurt at the same time, and grinned at each other. Puck put both arms around Kurt and gave him a squeeze, and Burt didn't even feel anxious.

"I like Saturday morning cartoons," said Kurt.

"Too bad it's Sunday," said Puck against his back. "I like... hell, I don't know. Lots of kid stuff. Oh, I liked it when you read to me, Mrs. Hudson."

"I could read more, if you like," she offered, and everyone agreed that sounded just about the right speed for a lazy, post-traumatic Sunday afternoon. Puck got up and handed her _All the King's Men_, and she found where she'd marked their spot yesterday.

They read for a long time, everyone listening, and Carole passing the book to someone else when she needed a break. Sometime after twelve-thirty, she turned a page, started to read, and stopped.

"What?" said Finn. She shook her head, and handed the book to Kurt, wiping her eyes. No one questioned or even looked surprised when Burt put an arm around her and let her rest on his shoulder.

Kurt read:

_"When you get born your father and mother lost something out of themselves, and they are going to bust a ham trying to get it back, and you are it. They know they can't get it all back but they will get as big a chunk out of you as they can."_

There was a long silence after that, interrupted only by Carole's sniffles. "I'm really sorry about what happened with your mom," Burt said quietly to Puck and Sarah.

"I know," Puck said. "Thanks. I'll let you know how things go tonight. We'll be okay."

Burt sighed and nodded. "I'm still gathering information, but if you can come by the shop on Monday after school, we can talk about your options."

"Remember what I told you, Sarah," Carole said. "You're welcome here any time. That goes for you, too, Puck."

"Thanks, Mrs. Hudson," he said, and stood, his knees popping. "I left a container of leftovers for you in the fridge." Finn's eyes went wide, and he shrugged. "What? I made extra on purpose, dude. Plus I owe Santana some for helping us out with the texting."

"Kurt?" said Sarah. "Do you - want to come over for a little while? I have some new Lady Gaga tracks... she's brilliant, just her and her piano."

"Dad?" Kurt said, but Burt was already nodding. Kurt grabbed Sarah's hand and they ran to get their shoes.

Puck rolled his eyes at Finn. "I won't see _them_ for a few hours," he muttered, and Finn grinned. Puck turned to Carole and cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks again, Mrs. Hudson... for your house, and all the talking. And everything." He looked at Burt. "And... well, everything. Sorry. I'm not so eloquent today."

"It's been a hell of a weekend," Burt said, and hugged Puck tight, feeling raw. Carole followed with a hug of her own for Puck.

Kurt, Puck and Sarah wandered through the house, picking up their things. "I'll be home before dinner, Dad," said Kurt. He eyed his father hopefully. "Could... Finn and Noah come over to study after dinner? Like, actually study."

"Sure," said Burt. "I'll be sure we're stocked with snacks. But -"

"Yeah, I know," Kurt sighed. "The door stays open."

Burt's lip quirked. "Actually, I was just going to say you'd better plan to wear a turtleneck tomorrow."

Kurt's hand flew to his neck, and he turned bright red before fleeing for the door.

Carole didn't bother to hide her smile. "That was... somewhat cruel, don't you think?"

"Oh, there's no way he'd miss those hickeys, with the amount of time he spends in front of the mirror," he said, his eyes dancing. "I just wanted him to know I saw them, too. And it's okay."

Carole drew him into the kitchen. "Burt... I have something I wanted to say to you. I... well." She gave him a half-smile, one he recognized from Finn's face. "I hope you know I really love your son. He's amazing in so many ways. But I don't think I gave you a fair chance to show me what kind of a man _you_ are, yesterday. I made some judgments, and they weren't all kind. I hope you will forgive me."

"Carole," he said, incredulous. "You've been nothing _but_ kind and accommodating to me, and everybody else, since this whole crazy thing started. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I really think I do." She bit her lip. "You're - really pretty amazing yourself. I'm impressed with the way you handled Puck, and Sarah, and how willing you've been to push yourself, to change in ways you might not feel ready for. You see what Kurt needs, and you're right there to give it to him. That's admirable. It's the kind of parent I aspire to be."

"Carole," he breathed, taking her hand. "You - you're the one I should be saying that to. The way you are with Finn - he's such a fantastic kid. No, a fantastic young man. You treat him like one, and he rises to meet your expectations. I don't know how you did it all these years, by yourself, but - you did. You did it." He sighed, and she squeezed his hand. "After my wife died, I... I thought sometimes there was no way I was going to be everything Kurt needed. About feelings, and clothes, and... and half of the shit it takes to run a household. I didn't know that stuff, you know? I mean, I figured it out, but I always thought Kurt was missing out on so much, because he didn't have his mom around."

"I bet she was spectacular," Carole said quietly.

"Yeah," he said. "She was." He considered their joined hands, and took a deep breath. _"You're _pretty spectacular, Carole."

She paused, and he saw the light dawn in her eyes just before he let her hand go and headed for the door. "Burt," she said.

"It's been an intense weekend," he said, not looking at her. "Let's give it a few days, okay? Maybe... maybe later this week, we could... talk again. See where we are."

She was silent for so long, he had to look to make sure she was still listening. Carole's cheeks were wet. He fought the urge to take her into his arms. _You know what's going to happen if you do that,_ he thought, and sighed. _You can be a grownup about this. You're not sixteen anymore, for god's sake._

Carole didn't make a move toward him, but he saw her swallow and run a hand through her hair. "Okay?" he said.

"Oh, Burt," she said through her tears, "it's more than okay." She smiled, a bright, beautiful smile.

Something broke inside him at that smile, and before he could think he stepped right into the space before her, seized the back of her head and pulled her into a fierce kiss. She made a shocked sound against his mouth, and she didn't respond when he slid his hands around her back, but she didn't push him away, either.

He was the one who ended the kiss, and he nuzzled her neck for just one brief moment, breathing in her scent, before he stepped away and hurried out to his truck.

_This is insane, _he thought, stumbling a little as he made his way down the front steps. _It's insane that I just kissed my son's boyfriend's mother. And it's even more insane that I want to go back and do it again, right now._

* * *

><p>Quote from <em>All the King's Men <em>by Robert Penn Warren.


	30. Chapter 30

(Author's note: Some of my fellow Little Monsters may note that Lady Gaga's third album Born This Way wasn't even written until the fall of 2010, and not released until the following spring, while this story takes place in the fall of 2009. I beg my readers some artistic license with this truth, and hope it does not distract from the flow of the story. The song Kurt listens to sounds a lot like this acoustic version: http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=gvSxKNF7atM Thanks, and enjoy! -amy)

* * *

><p>Kurt made Sarah do a half hour of math homework before they delved into her Lady Gaga collection, most of which consisted of brand new concept recordings, not yet ready for release. Sarah related amazing tidbits Timothy had told her about the tour, and they talked and listened for much of the afternoon. Ruth was at work until midnight, so there was no risk of running into her, and Kurt found he loved relaxing with Sarah.<p>

After taking a brief cuddle break with Puck, Kurt returned to Sarah's room to find her dancing like a wild creature, singing one of the new songs:

_I'm a brat, I'm a selfish punk, I really should be smacked_

_My parents tried until they got divorced 'cause I ruined their lives_

_I'm a bad kid and I will survive_

_Oh I'm a bad kid, don't know wrong from right_

_Don't be insecure if your heart is pure_

_You're still good to me if you're a bad kid baby_

"You don't really think you're a bad kid, do you?" asked Kurt when the song was over. They were lying on their backs on Sarah's bed, painting their nails. Kurt was sticking with clear gloss and sparkles, but Sarah went straight for the Really Red.

Sarah considered this, blowing on her fingers. "I think other people think I am, sometimes. Noah's always been seen as the bad kid in our family, but honestly? I'm just better at getting away with stuff." She shrugged, not proud, not guilty, just matter of fact. "I'm sneakier. He's the one who tries to do stuff and gets in trouble for it. I'm the one who pretends not to do it, until no one is looking and then I do it anyway."

"I... can relate to that," said Kurt. "Everybody tells me I'm a good kid because they only see what's on the surface. If they saw what was inside..."

"Nah," said Sarah, with confidence. "They'd still say you were a good kid. I mean, the fact that you're even thinking about this makes you a good kid, you know?"

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." He held up his toes and wiggled them pensively. "I wonder what it would feel like, to have people _not_ pay attention to me."

"You'd probably hate it," Sarah said.

"Probably," Kurt allowed. "But it's something I've never experienced, so I wonder, sometimes."

Kurt was caught by the haunting quality of the next song, and just lay on the bed and listened to the lyrics as Lady Gaga's rich voice washed over him. A tear ran from the corner of his eye and down into his ear, and he wiped it away impatiently. "Wow." He sat up. "Can we hear that one again?"

Sarah pressed the back button on her iPod. "Timmy said Gaga told him this album is all about what keeps us up at night and what makes us afraid. Now that's my kind of music."

Kurt listened intently, making little exclamations at various parts, thinking hard. _That piano is amazing, but the song is lost inside the melancholia. What if it were about twice as fast... with a drum track... maybe electric guitar? Keyboards? Maybe a little sax?_

"Kurt?" Sarah took the open nail polish out of his hand before it could spill and screwed the cap back on.

Kurt was a million miles away, but he came back long enough to direct a wide-eyed stare at Sarah. "Could I get a copy of that track? Please?"

"We're not allowed to use it for commercial anything, or distribute it," she warned. "You can't even make a copy for yourself. But... you can borrow my iPod for a couple days. If you promise not to do anything, you know. Distributy."

"Thanks, Sarah," he said, smiling at her. "I won't break the Lady's trust. I just want to use it for something for Glee."

They sat on Sarah's bed while their nails dried, eating kettle corn, and listened to Gaga and her piano sing songs of rebellion and freedom and the connection that grows from being an outcast.

"When I hear Lady Gaga sing," Kurt said, "I can't help but wonder, if everyone feels this way, why can't we get past all the crap and get at what really matters? I don't mean just being _nicer_ to each other... though, god knows, that would be handy..." Kurt sighed. "But I mean really _understanding _each other."

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know." She held up her red, red nails and watched them shine in the light of her desk lamp. "But when I'm listening, though, I don't care so much what other people think. Maybe the answer isn't about getting everybody else to understand, but to make everyone feel strong, together."

"I guess we all feel stronger when we're with someone else," Kurt said softly.

Sarah tipped her head. "Do you feel three times as strong when you're with Noah and Finn, then?"

"I think it's more of an exponent than a multiplier," he grinned.

She thought about it. "So you're... nine times as strong?"

"I see your math skills are as strong as your brother's," Kurt said in the voice of Darth Vader, making scary breathing sounds into his hands. "But can you put them into practice? Hand me those flash cards, young Jedi."

* * *

><p>(Lyric credit: "Bad Kids" by Lady Gaga, copyright 2011.)<p>

* * *

><p>Finn opened his front door and nearly dropped his peanut butter and banana sandwich as Kurt came barreling into the front hall. "Hey, Kurt," he said, surprised, but smiling. "I didn't expect to see you until after dinner. Is everything okay?"<p>

"Finn," Kurt demanded, out of breath. "I need your help. This song we're doing for Glee - it's not working."

"What, the song from Hair?" Finn held a hand under his sandwich to keep it from dripping. "I thought you liked the wigs. You looked so cute in the blonde one."

"That's not the point," Kurt said, blushing. "It's not the wigs - it's the _song_ that's not working. It's terrible. The mashup is all wrong. Mr. Schue needs another idea. A better idea." He held up Sarah's iPod triumphantly. _"I have_ a better idea. I need your drums."

He quickly hauled Finn past the family room ("Hi-Carole-can't-talk-now-nice-to-see-you-bye!"), up the stairs to his bedroom, and plugged the iPod into Finn's player. "Listen," he breathed. "Just listen."

Finn sat on the edge of his bed, ate his sandwich, and listened. "Uh-huh," he said, halfway through. "It's pretty. Kind of moving. So?"

"So." Kurt gestured excitedly. "What if we picked up the tempo, and added some drums? Piano is fine, and some horns. It would be... well, awesome." He bounced on his toes. "Those lyrics, Finn. They're for Noah, and Sarah, and all the kids whose parents just don't understand. The hairography - it's not about distraction, it's about _freedom of expression, _about being loved for who you are." He stared hopefully at Finn. "Can you hear it?"

"Um." Finn thought, sucking on his lip, and Kurt tried not to let his mind go elsewhere. "Play it again."

This time he picked up his drum sticks and a drum pad and concentrated on working up a rhythm, noodling in slow motion. "What I wouldn't give for a bass player," he muttered. "Can you just sing the melody, faster? I can't make it work unless it's actually up tempo - _oof."_ He grunted as Kurt tackled him in a hug. "What?" he said, grinning.

"You," said Kurt. "You just... listen to me. You don't question, or judge, or make me explain, you just... trust me."

"Well, yeah," said Finn, wrinkling his brow. "I love you."

Kurt plastered himself against Finn and kissed him until he was panting. "Thank you," Kurt said with a sweet smile, removing Finn's hands from his ass and putting them back on the drum sticks. "You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"I'm starting to get an idea," Finn said, resting his head on one hand and gazing at Kurt affectionately. "Is my payment spelled B-L-O-W-J-O-B?"

"We'll talk about that later, Mr. Grabby Hands," Kurt said primly. "This is for Noah. I want to get it ready for Glee, and I can't do it without you. Now give me a downbeat and I'll come in."

* * *

><p>When they met at Kurt's that night to do homework, Finn arrived first. He and Kurt took their positions on the green couch in Kurt's basement without even talking about it: Kurt in the center square, where the two legs of the couch came together; Finn stretched out on the long leg, with his feet within reach of Kurt's hands. It was where the two of them had done their homework almost every night for the past several weeks, and after their crazy weekend, it felt good to Kurt to get back to a familiar routine.<p>

Both had spread out their work around them and were fairly engrossed when Puck walked in. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the scene with annoyance.

"Where do I sit?" Puck said.

"Hello to you, too," Kurt said, barely looking up from his chemistry book. "Sit here, next to me." He patted the short leg of the L.

Puck walked over slowly, setting his backpack down on the table in front of them. He made a big production of getting his books out and piling them on the floor next to the couch. He sat down for about thirty seconds before getting up and rustling through his backpack again, then he sat down with a book for another minute and a half before getting up again. The third time he ran through this routine, Kurt put down his book with a sigh.

"What is it, Noah?" he asked.

"Can't find my pen," Puck muttered.

Kurt silently handed him one, and he proceeded to tap it against every available surface in the next two minutes before Kurt sighed again, more loudly this time.

"What?" Puck demanded.

"You're distracting me," Kurt replied in aggravation. "Can't you just study?"

Finn stood, stretched, set his book down, and held out a hand to both boys. They stared at him for a moment. "What are you doing?" said Puck.

"I'm giving you what you need," he said patiently. "Come with me. Kurt, you too."

They followed him, sullen and irritated, into Kurt's bedroom. "Take off your jeans," he said, closing the door.

Puck started to follow suit, while Kurt watched Finn in perplexed frustration, until he noticed Kurt and added, "You, too, baby."

"What?" Kurt was startled. "Why? What did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do," he said, more gently than Kurt expected. "Come on. We have to finish our homework."

Kurt was somewhat offended, and definitely outraged, and had no idea why he was suddenly stripping off his skinny jeans. He especially didn't know why he was doing nothing but waiting quietly for Finn to tell him what to do next, or why Noah was doing the same, when they were both naked from the waist down and by all rights there should be much more interesting things to do with one another.

"Kurt, have a seat," said Finn, gesturing to the bed. "Puck, I want you over his knee. That's right. Go ahead and rest your head right on your arms. Get comfortable."

"I'm not going to fucking get comfortable, Hudson," Puck snarled, draping himself across Kurt's bare thighs, and then he let out a startled curse as Finn's hand came down and made a sharp retort across his backside.

"Puck, you're pissing Kurt off. That alone should count for at least three strokes. And about this morning..." He considered Puck, who lay motionless and tense, listening, half on Kurt, half on the bed. Kurt could feel both their heartbeats accelerate, and their cocks growing hard.

"The words someone speaks to you in private are just that - private. If Kurt tells you something when you're alone together with him, you ask him before you talk about it, with me or anybody else. The same goes with me. And the stuff we talk about together is just for the three of us. Understood?" Puck nodded, and Kurt found himself nodding along. "Five for... persuading Kurt to tell secrets. And two more for mouthing off to Burt last night. He doesn't need any more stress. So that's ten. Sound fair?"

Puck was silent for a moment, then he stirred. "Better make it twelve," he muttered. "I took a picture of Burt and Carole snuggling on the couch. Sir."

"They were - _what?"_ Kurt turned stunned eyes on Puck.

"All right," Finn said calmly. "We'll talk about that later, baby. I need you to think about this, what we're doing here, and consider what you could have done differently, instead of snapping at Puck when he got twitchy."

Kurt felt his face grow red. He put his hands on Puck and stroked his hair, feeling his chest rise and fall, the sweat on his temples, while Finn moved in closer. He was imposing, standing over them like this, and Kurt blurted, "I'm sorry."

"It's not about you right now, baby," Finn said. "This is for Puck. You'll get your turn."

Kurt watched as Finn got down on the floor and touched Puck's face, which Puck had burrowed into the covers of Kurt's bed. Finn turned Puck's face toward him and kissed him, with such love and tenderness that it made Kurt feel faint to watch. "Kurt's here too," he said. "He's going to help you. Just let him in. Don't be embarrassed. It's okay."

Kurt felt the tension drain slowly out of Puck as he leaned hungrily into Finn's kiss. "We're going to take care of you, sweetheart," Kurt added, running his hand down to Puck's round bottom, sticking up into the air, and Puck quivered under his touch.

"That's right," Finn nodded at Kurt. Kurt felt absurdly pleased.

"Don't worry about counting," Finn added to Puck. "This is going to be quick. Just hang on. It'll be over in a minute, and then we can move on."

Puck nodded silently, and closed his eyes.

Kurt watched as Finn took a breath, squared his shoulders and placed a hand on the crease under Puck's perfect ass. For a moment, Kurt's thoughts sped ahead to Tuesday, and he caught his breath at the picture Finn had built for him, of what they would be doing. He felt nothing but anticipation, and trust that Finn would make it right, would make it amazing for them.

And then Finn's hand came down, quickly and with force, again and again, with scarcely a pause between strokes. Kurt could see Finn was working hard, using his whole, strong body to make an impact, and even in the midst of the rain of blows, even as Puck started to exclaim and protest and finally fall apart under the stinging slap of Finn's hand, Kurt was thinking, _Hmm, maybe we need to get some kind of paddle. _

Kurt took Puck into his arms as he cried, and wiped away his tears. "That's it, sweetheart," he said, kissing him on his cheeks, his lips, his neck. Puck responded with desperate passion, and Kurt felt a little light-headed when Finn finally tugged Puck off his lap.

"Puck, would it be too uncomfortable to sit on the bed and have Kurt in your lap right now?" Finn asked. Puck shook his head, wiping his nose, and sat up, putting his arms around Kurt's waist. Finn had to help Kurt lie down, to put him just where he wanted, and with every movement, Kurt felt himself grow more still inside. _This is what Puck needed,_ he realized.

"So, if Puck were coming down the stairs now," Finn asked, as though this were a class and they were having an academic conversation, "how would you do it differently?

"I'd meet him at the door," he said, "and check in with him, see how he was doing. If he needed... something... this... I'd know it." He shifted against Puck's lap and felt the warmth of Puck's skin on his. "I'd take care of it."

"I know you would," Finn said, smiling. "Three strokes, then."

The spanking was precise and stinging, and Kurt was almost disappointed it was over so quickly, but he accepted Finn's kisses and embrace. "I'm sorry," Kurt said again, this time to Puck. "Can we try it again? I have an idea."

They got dressed and went back out to the green couch. With an effort, Kurt dragged the big square coffee table away from the couch and made room on the floor in front of Kurt and Finn's spot. "Sit here," he said to Puck.

Puck glanced at Kurt. "Really?" he said.

"Yes," Kurt said, with certainty. "That's just for you."

Puck surveyed the space on the floor as though it were a throne, and grinned with such undisguised pleasure that Kurt nearly giggled. _He's back to himself,_ he thought, still amazed at the change. _We did it. We made him better. _He took a deep breath, feeling how relaxed, how calm he felt. His anxiety and frustration were gone. _And me, too._

When Burt came downstairs forty-five minutes later, all three boys were nearly motionless, concentrating on their studies. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, with approval, and they all looked up except for Finn, who was engrossed in his reading for American history. "Just wanted to say goodnight. Remember, you guys need to be home by eleven."

"Thanks, dad," said Kurt, leaning into his father's hand, resting on his shoulder. "I'll see you at the garage after school tomorrow." He glanced at Finn. "Dinner at your house?"

"Sure, baby," said Finn absently, and Kurt covered his smile with his chemistry book. Burt didn't seem to know what to do with that_ baby_, but he didn't comment. Then Finn looked up. "Would you come to dinner too, Burt?"

"Uh, yeah, okay," he said, gruffly. "Thanks."

Before Burt was even completely up the stairs, Kurt was pulling Puck's phone out of his back pocket. "I've got to see this picture," he said.

"Hey!" Puck protested. "Talk about invasion of privacy. It's my fucking phone."

"Oh my god," said Kurt. He stared at the image of Carole and Burt, relaxed in sleep, leaning against one another.

Finn looked over Puck's shoulder, a smile playing on his lips. "Do you think they... did anything?"

"God, do _not_ go there," Kurt said, shuddering. He swiped the picture off the screen, trying to erase the images playing before his imagination, and paused at the next picture in Puck's photo album. "Finn," he said, faintly.

Finn looked again, and his eyes widened. "Dude," he said, in shock and consternation.

"Don't worry," said Puck, "I'm gonna password-protect it before school tomorrow." He looked stubbornly at Kurt. "But I'm not erasing it, no matter what. That one's mine."

"I -" Kurt had no words as he gazed at the photo of himself, sleeping in the guest bed at Finn's house, with Finn curled around his back. Kurt was snuggled in his arms, resting his head on Finn's bicep, Finn's other hand tucked under Kurt's chin. Finn looked positively angelic, and there was a satisfied smile on Kurt's own face. No one could have looked at the picture and misinterpreted it as anything but what it was: two people in love.

"Can I have a copy of that?" Finn said, touching Puck's neck.

"Sure," Puck said, grinning. "You want one, Kurt?"

"Yes," he said. "Please."


	31. Chapter 31

(Author's note: two of these scenes are almost directly quoted from the show, to preserve continuity. No copyright infringement is intended. Enjoy! -amy)

* * *

><p>Puck picked up the phone on the second ring. "Kurt," he said, and his voice was soft.<p>

"Did your mom get home?" Kurt said, propping himself up on one arm and pulling the covers over his shoulder. The clock read 12:15 am.

Puck sighed. "Yeah."

"Are you guys okay?"

"Sarah's making her tea," Puck said. "She's tired, but she seems fine."

"I can come over, if you want," he offered.

"Your dad would never let you."

Kurt grinned. "I can sneak out."

"You?" Puck snorted. "Check it out; Kurt Hummel the escape artist."

"The basement has a separate entrance to the garage. It's easy to get in and out without my dad noticing as long as I leave the garage door open. And it's usually open."

"I'll remember that," Puck said. "How'd it be if you woke up some night and found me in your bed?"

Kurt felt a tingle run across his back, down both legs and curl under his thighs. "I'd love that," he murmured.

"You'd probably want to ditch the pajamas," Puck added.

"I'd rather you take them off me," Kurt said, and Puck's chuckle made the hairs on his arms stand up. "You sound really sexy on the phone, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Puck grinned. "Trust me. We're just getting started."

"I'm not calling for that," he said, swallowing. "I mean - I'm sure it would be good. Really good. I just wanted to make sure you're okay with your mom there. I don't want you to think this thing with us is just about the... sex."

"No," Puck said. "I know it's not." There was a pause. "Is it okay if it's about sex, too, though?"

"Sure," Kurt said, feeling faint.

"'Cause I think you're really hot, Kurt," Puck said, low and thrilling, and Kurt bit back a moan.

"I don't really get that," he admitted. "There's no way I can compete with you and Finn in the body department. And I'm not particularly good looking."

"What the hell, Hummel?" Puck sounded positively angry. "How can you even _say_ that? You're fucking _gorgeous._ And trust me, I wouldn't say that about just any guy."

Kurt felt the blush travel from the top of his head down to the waistband of his pajamas, which were suddenly fitting quite a bit more tightly. "You... really think so?"

"Fishing for complements, huh? Well... let's see." Kurt could imagine Puck stretched out on his bed, shirtless, leaning back against the headboard, one hand behind his head. Or possibly somewhere else. "You've got a killer smile. It fucking destroys me. Maybe it's because I can always imagine those lips doing something else. And I'll totally deny it if you say this to anybody, but you've got gorgeous eyes."

"And who am I going to say it to, exactly?" he said. He wondered at what point in the process of phone sex it was permissible to start jacking off. He guessed it'd be over with in about ten seconds if he started now, so he just slid off his pajama pants and felt the delicious sensation of 800-thread-count sheets against his bare legs. _Maybe I should start sleeping without pajamas,_ he thought.

"I don't know... Mercedes? Anyway, where was I? Oh, your eyes. I love the way you look at me - you get me so worked up. And fuck, Kurt, your _hair._"

"You... like my hair?" Kurt was almost embarrassed at how much he liked hearing that. Almost. He brushed his bangs back from his face.

"You probably don't remember from last year, but mine is obnoxious. I'm never fucking growing it out again. It's like a goddamn bird's nest. Your hair is so smooth, so silky."

"I... thanks," he said, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. "I like your hair, sweetheart. It feels incredible. I never thought it would be so soft. I've... wanted to touch it ever since you shaved your head."

"Yeah?" Now Puck sounded shy. "You were thinking about me, before?"

"Sometimes," Kurt admitted, running a hand down his stomach. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and squeezed, not stroking, just letting the sheets brush against the sensitive head, and he sighed. "I imagine half the school has had fantasies about you, Noah."

"Yeah, probably," he said. "And I bet every guy who ever wanted a blowjob from another guy has thought about you. Because, fuck."

"Well, I'm not interested in doing that with every guy," Kurt said.

"Just me and Finn?"

"Yes," said Kurt, and squeezed again. "Rather a lot."

"How'd you get so good at it, anyway? As far as I know, you haven't been practicing."

He laughed. "Oh, but I have. Just not on people. Popsicles."

"Really." Puck sounded dubious.

"Seriously. It's the perfect shape, and you can feel it in your throat. Bananas are too big. Well, I thought they would be." He licked his lips. "You're a little bigger than average, I guess. And Finn - well. He's a challenge, let's say."

"Just means we need to practice a lot," Puck said. "Great. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at popsicles the same way again."

Kurt rolled onto his stomach and wadded his pillow under his chest, giving an experimental thrust against the bed. "Just like donuts."

"Huh? What about donuts?"

Kurt hesitated. "Didn't I ever tell you about the donut test?"

"No. What am I missing?"

"Never mind. It's a long story." He thrust again, closing his eyes.

"How about I take you out for donuts before school on Tuesday, and you can tell me all about it."

Kurt couldn't help smiling. "How did you get so sweet, anyway?"

Puck laughed. "Finn beat the shit out of me, of course."

"_Noah!" _

"Sorry, I've been waiting to use that line," he said, still laughing.

Kurt stretched out his legs and wiggled his freshly painted toes. "Did I just hear you _giggle?_"

"No," he said. "But you might have heard my car door slam."

"Your... what?" Kurt sat up and pulled the covers back up, hearing sounds in the family room. "Just a second. I think my dad's awake."

"No, he's not," said Puck. "The house is dark."

Kurt felt a chill. "How do you know?"

"Cause I'm the one who turned out the light," he heard from his doorway. Puck dropped his car keys, shed his shoes, shorts and t-shirt on the way to the bed, and was under the covers before Kurt could cry out.

"God, you're warm," he rumbled, wrapping Kurt in his chilly limbs.

"I can't believe - you're here," Kurt gasped, holding him tight.

Puck kissed him all over his face. "I can't stay long, but Sarah will cover for us. Long enough."

"Long enough for what?" Kurt said.

"Long enough for me to do this," said Puck, disappearing under the covers with a grin. "Maybe twice."

* * *

><p>By first period Monday morning, Kurt had already dodged two slushies, endured taunts from one gang of jeering seniors, and had his hair rumpled by unfriendly hands. Finn and Puck had both walked past him in the hall without a glance, and the loneliness was palpable.<p>

Under the picture of Lady Gaga in his locker he'd hidden a printout of a picture he'd surreptitiously taken of Finn and Puck last week, sitting together in Glee. Puck was saying something funny, his eyes watching Finn, and Finn was laughing hysterically in a moment of rare abandon. It was a little blurry, but every time he looked at it, he could feel their presence, and it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. _Boyfriends... really doesn't cover it,_ he thought, and sighed. He needed to see that picture before he had to endure their first period chemistry class, in which Finn would scarcely acknowledge his presence.

But he'd barely opened his locker before Rachel was on him, slamming it shut. Her eyes were venomous. "You set me up," she said. "With Finn."

He sneered, feeling spiteful. "It looks like someone is running for drama queen again."

"How could you do that?" she protested. "I thought we were friends."

"And what made you think that?" he said, looking at her with annoyance, even as he knew his anger at her was misplaced. His frustration at the confines of school were already making him testy. "You should be thanking me. All I did was make you realize that your schoolgirl fantasy of running off with Finn was nothing but a fairy tale."

Rachel watched him with dawning understanding. "You… you like him."

Kurt froze. _I should have been more prepared for this._ "Yeah, that's what this is," Rachel went on, building up steam, "and you were just trying to eliminate the competition."

Kurt rolled his eyes. _What do I say to her that would be believable? "_I... I was just helping him understand that _you_ are not a viable second choice."

Rachel pursued him down the hall, incredulous. "You think I'm a _second_ choice?"

He looked her over, thinking of Finn's tongue in his mouth last night, of his hands on Puck's back. "A distant second." _Or third._

Rachel was outraged. "You think I'm living in a fairy tale? If I were second, or if I were fiftieth, I'd still be ahead of you because I'm a _girl_."

He finally realized where he needed to go, where Rachel's vulnerability lie. "Okay, here's the dope, princess," he said, trying to sound desolate. "There's no hope for either of us. He loves Quinn. And the sooner we realize that the better." The look on her face told him he'd hit the mark, and he felt a twinge of guilt at misleading her.

He strode away, around the corner, and nearly ran into Puck. Puck took one look at Kurt's expression, grabbed his grey jacket with one hand and pressed him up against the wall. "Hey, Hummel," he said, loud and crass, and added, "What happened?" as quietly as he could.

"Rachel called me on it," he hissed, feeling his control slipping. "She knows I like Finn. She saw it. I - I don't know what to do."

"Don't sweat it," Puck said, dropping his hand. "The whole school knows you like him. The question is, does she think he likes you back?"

"No," he admitted, then, louder, as they drew the attention of a group of jocks, "I don't have any lunch money today, Puckerman."

"You got this, Puck?" they said, and Puck gave them a smooth smile, putting his arm around Kurt.

"Kurt's my boy," he said, and Kurt went red as they walked away, smirking.

"Finn had better not hear you saying that," he murmured, "even in fun."

"Do you see Finn anywhere around?" said Puck through his teeth. "Anyway, it's a good excuse to cop a feel. Hang in there. Fifth period'll come sooner than you think."

_Our standing date in the janitor's closet, before American history. _"I can't make it today," said Kurt, looking at his feet. "Neither can Finn. We have something for Glee. But - we've got dinner at Finn's house after football today," he added, as Puck's face fell. "Trust me; I'll make it up to you."

"I'll look forward to it," he whispered, and shoved Kurt into the lockers, walking away without looking back.

* * *

><p>Santana peered into the picnic basket with barely disguised interest. "Steak <em>and<em> fish?" she asked, hopefully.

"Everything," Puck said. "I put a copy of the menu in there for you." He'd cut off the top line that read _Hudson/Hummel/Puckerman Dinner,_ to avoid the questions, but everything else was listed. "The stuffed dates are fucking awesome."

"Okay," she said. "We had a deal. What do you want me to say to Quinn, again?"

"Tell her to leave me alone. You can say we're dating or whatever. Tell her about the sexting when I said I was texting Mike Chang."

She nodded. "Right. And this is helping your secret affair how?"

"If I told you that, it wouldn't be a secret anymore," he said. "And it's not an affair, Satan. It's the real thing."

She crossed her arms and looked him up and down. "And just what does 'the real thing' involve? Gold stars? Better sex? Twoo wuv?"

"Yes, yes, and definitely," he nodded. "True everything."

"The hell, Puck," she muttered, but he just gave her a friendly wave as he walked away.

"Thanks, babe. Oh, and you'd better stick that basket in the home ec fridge," he called back over his shoulder, "or the tilapia will spoil. And I want the basket back, got it?"

Santana sighed in frustration, and spotted Quinn across the hall. _No time like the present, _she thought. She set the basket down in an out-of-the-way spot, stalked over, and slammed Quinn's locker shut with an angry glare. "Keep your paws off my man," she shot out. "Clear?"

Quinn looked baffled. "Who's your man?"

"Don't play stupid, Tubbers," she said. "Oh, and for the record? Asking someone to babysit with you is super 90s."

Now she looked nervous. "I happen to know that Puck cares about me."

"Oh, wake up. While you two were playing house, Puck and I were sexting." She eyed Quinn's growing belly with disdain. "Why don't you check his cell phone? Cause my sexts are too hot to erase."

_Mission accomplished, _she thought as she sauntered away. _Now to discover what the hell the mission actually was._


	32. Chapter 32

"I feel bad bailing on Puck today," said Finn, as they walked into the empty choir room and closed the door behind them. Kurt locked it with the master key, just in case. "He needs our daily study break even more than the rest of us."

"I promised we'd make it up to him tonight," said Kurt. "This is for him, too. Let's go through it again. Mr. Schue has a meeting and nobody's scheduled to be here for the rest of fourth hour. Let's make this time count."

Kurt played the piano part he'd worked up to the Lady Gaga song with increasing confidence. He liked the way it sounded at the faster tempo, even with just him and Finn's drums. It was almost like a different song. Finn was starting to get familiar enough with the song to harmonize, but even though he had an impressive range, Kurt knew they needed more backup.

"I wish I could find someone else to play this part," he sighed.

Finn leaned over Kurt's shoulder and made a note on the manuscript Kurt had scribbled. "Why?" he asked. "You're an awesome pianist."

"I'm passable," Kurt acknowledged. "But I have some ideas for choreography, and there's no way I can make them happen if I'm behind the piano. I talked to Jeremy, but he's getting D's in French and can't skip any more classes to come to Glee." He sighed. "I think this could be... good. And I want it to be as good as it can be."

"Because you're a perfectionist," Finn said, straddling the piano bench.

Kurt gave Finn a dirty look. "No! Because it's for_ Noah."_

Finn leaned in and smelled Kurt's hair. "I totally want to kiss you right now," he murmured.

"For god's sake, Finn," Kurt said, sliding his arms under his jacket and stroking his chest. "We're at _school."_

"The door's locked." Finn's mouth found his neck and he nibbled that spot that made Kurt lose all powers of speech. "No one can get in."

Someone cleared his throat. "Well, unless that person goes in through the choir office," he said.

They leapt back from one another and stared in shock and horror at the guy in the doorway to the office. "You," said Kurt. "You're... our accompanist."

"Yep," said Brad. He stepped into the room and set down the box he was carrying. "Don't you guys have class?"

"We finished our English assignment early and got permission to practice for Glee," Finn said, wrinkling his nose. "And, dude. You can, like, talk."

"When I have something to say," Brad agreed. He came up behind them and looked at the manuscript. "What's that?"

"A song we're working up." Kurt glanced hopefully at Brad. "Um... actually, if you're not busy, we could really use your help."

"I can spare a little time." Brad read the melody line and hummed it. "Nice. Is this yours?"

"No, it's... Lady Gaga. We're trying to modify it. She sings it slow and soulful, but I think it could rock out. Finn?" Kurt nodded at the drums, and Finn obliged by sitting at the kit and playing the first verse and chorus. Brad listened, nearly motionless and silent, as they were used to seeing him. He nodded.

"That's quite good. It's a little rough. Do you have a bassist?"

"No," Finn said. "I was thinking the same thing. And some keyboards would be good, against the melody, here-" He pointed, and Brad nodded again.

"I could find someone who could come in and help you with the bass. And I could handle the piano along with the keyboards, if you want. Let me set up the Yamaha and we'll see what we can manage."

"This is really nice of you, man," Finn said, smiling. "Thanks."

"Well." Brad gave them a sideways glance. "I've been watching you two for a while. And... Puck."

They gave each other an uneasy glance. "Uh," said Kurt.

"Not in a gay way," Brad assured them, smiling at them for the first time. "I'm straight." He fiddled with the cables to the keyboard and set them on the stand next to the piano. "But we do have something in common."

"What's that?" Kurt said suspiciously.

Brad paused, then shrugged and took out his wallet. He flipped to a well-worn picture and showed it to the boys. It was a studio photo, the kind one might take for Christmas cards, showing Brad with two women and two toddlers. One woman had short, curly blonde hair, and the other had shoulder-length dark hair. They were all smiling, except the dark-haired toddler, who had a fist in his mouth.

"This is my family," he said. "My wife, Andi... and my other wife, Laurie. Our kids are Duncan and Cory. They're little in this picture, but now they're three and two and a half."

"They're beautiful," said Kurt softly.

"What, are you, like, Mormon or something?" Finn said, wrinkling his brow.

"No," Brad said. "Agnostic."

Finn sat down slowly. "But the three of you, you're together?"

Brad nodded. "For eight years, yeah."

Kurt cleared his throat. "We're kind of... like that, too. With... with Noah. Puck," he clarified.

He nodded again. "Yes, I know. Like I said, I've been watching you."

"I'm surprised," said Finn. "I mean. I didn't know there was someone else who does... what we do... in Lima. I kind of assumed we were the only ones."

"Not by a long shot," Brad said, smiling. "You're definitely not alone, but it can feel that way sometimes. Most people who are poly keep it private, if not secret."

_Poly?_ Finn mouthed at Kurt, and Kurt shrugged.

"Does your family keep it secret?" he asked.

Brad laughed. "I'm not doing a very good job if we do," he said. "No, it's not really a secret." He shrugged. "Will - Mr. Schue - he knows. Probably some of the rest of the staff knows. It's not a big deal."

"It's kind of a big deal to us," said Finn, picking up his drum sticks. "We're still trying to figure it out."

"I know," Brad said softly. "I just wanted you to know... you're not alone. Every poly family does it a little differently, but if you want to talk, me and Andi and Laurie, we'd be happy to tell you how things are for us."

"That's really nice of you," Kurt said, looking at Finn. He wasn't sure what else to say. "We'll remember that."

"Shall we give this a try?" Brad played the first few chords. "I think I can sight read this. You got any backup vocalists?"

"Mercedes said she could help," said Kurt. "She's coming after school to work with me, but Finn has to go to football practice, so he can't hang out long."

"I can stay for a little while," Brad said. "Does Puck play the bass? It's not such a stretch from the guitar."

"We're trying to keep it a secret from him," Kurt said, shaking his head. "I want it to be a surprise. He's having... a rough time right now, and this is kind of for him."

"Nice," Brad said. "Well, I'll be here after school today, and I'll see what I can dig up in regards to a bassist. And... just so we're clear..." He gestured between the three of them. "What I told you about me, and my family. I'm assuming I can count on you three to keep it private, among you?"

"Yeah, definitely," said Finn, and Kurt nodded. "And you won't tell anybody, either? About us, me and Kurt, and Puck?"

"Don't worry," Brad said, grinning. "You know I'm good at staying quiet."

* * *

><p>Kurt thought that Glee's final practice of the Hair number wasn't significantly better than their first one. He enjoyed the wigs, but he was sick of trying to distract from their vocals. "Mr. Schue," he said, "this song isn't highlighting anything. No offense to Mercedes and Artie, but it's just not our best song. The mashup - I'm not feeling it."<p>

"Well, we're performing for Haverbrook School for the Deaf tomorrow," Mr Schue said, "so we're going to do our best."

"And we're going to fail miserably," said Rachel.

Mr. Schue sighed and tapped on the piano. "I know it's frustrating when things don't come together easily, guys," he said, "but I promise, with a little more practice, it'll work. Remember, sometimes, two things that don't seem to go together do. The big difference between them is what makes them great."

Kurt felt Puck's eyes on him from behind. It wasn't helping his concentration any. Sometimes he thought Puck stood back there just so he could stare at his ass during Glee. "I know, Mr. Schue," he said, "but sometimes, two things that don't seem to go together just _don't go together._" He made a gesture with his hand and wrinkled his nose. "Case in point: these two songs."

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

Kurt was surprised he even asked, but he went on gamely. "Actually, I do. I won't have it ready for tomorrow, but, on Wednesday, I'd really like to present an alternative Hair number. It's not something we could do for sectionals, but, in the spirit of the creative process, it's a song that might inspire us."

Mr. Schue smiled. "Great, Kurt. I always appreciate it when students take initiative. I'll look forward to seeing what you bring to us on Wednesday."

After rehearsal, Puck stopped Kurt with a hand on his arm. "What's this all about, Hummel?" he said.

"You'll see on Wednesday, s- Puck," he said, avoiding his eyes. Puck shrugged and gave him a sardonic look before heading out the door.

Mercedes stayed after Glee and looked over the manuscript with Kurt, while Finn and Brad went over a possible bass part with a lanky bassist named Roger from jazz band. Kurt played the slow version of the song for Mercedes on Sarah's iPod. If she was surprised to see Brad there, she didn't say anything.

"How was your weekend?" Mercedes asked quietly, while they waited for Finn and Brad to finish with Roger. "It was the big dinner party, right? God, I bet that was uncomfortable, sitting down to dinner with all your parents."

"You have no idea," Kurt said. "But the food was amazing. You really need to try Puck's cooking some time."

"Am I to assume things are going... well, then?" she asked. "It's a little weird never to see you guys together. You don't even look at each other in the hall, except when Puckerman's harassing you."

"Not at school," he said. "At least not in front of anybody. And I told you, he's not harassing me, he's just pretending. We've got to keep up the front."

"Why?" she said, shaking her head. "I mean, yeah, it was strange when you first told me, but... I guess I'm over it now. I bet everybody else would get over it too. We're already super weird for belonging to Glee. This wouldn't change things so much, would it?"

"Um... _yes,_ it would," he said emphatically, staring at her. "Social suicide for Finn and Puck. Rampant bullying from all sides." Kurt shook his head. "I wouldn't do that to them."

"They're doing it to _you,_ honey." Mercedes put her hands on her hips. "You're the one who takes shit every day. Why do you have to bear the burden for them?"

Kurt just shook his head again, thinking of the picture of Puck and Finn he had hidden in his locker. _There was just no way,_ he thought.

"So you're just planning to keep it a secret for... what, ever?" Mercedes held up her hands. "Kurt, this isn't you. You don't belong in a closet. Not any kind of closet. Isn't that what this song is _about?_ Living your identity, no matter what people think?"

"Um, Kurt?" Finn called. "You ready to try it with the bass?"

Kurt gave her a desperate look, and she just sighed and threw up her hands. "Whatever," she said. "You're an idiot, Kurt, but you know I love you, and this song is pretty awesome. Let's give it a shot."

* * *

><p>Mercedes' words were still haunting Kurt when he got to the garage and found Puck and Burt deep in conversation in the office. He didn't interrupt them right away; instead he stood back and watched them interact, the easy way Burt had with Puck, the way Puck naturally listened to him. Kurt found himself smiling, and coasting on crazy dreams about family and multiple sons-in-law. <em>Yeah,<em> he thought, _like that would really work._

But then he remembered Brad, and Brad's family. _Maybe it _would _work,_ he thought, shaking his head. _But would it fit with my other dreams - the ones I shared with Noah and Finn and Sarah, of being a performer? How much of those dreams have anything to do with being a husband, or a father, at all?_ He felt suddenly very glad to be only sixteen, and to have years before he would have to think about those things for real.

Puck turned his head at some small noise, then, and saw Kurt. "Hey," he said gravely. "Your dad called Social Services. Just to ask questions," he added, as Kurt's eyes widened, "about... what would happen if he called to make a report about Ma."

"The first think they'd do is come to your house," Burt said. "They'd do a home survey. There are people whose only job is to inspect people's home situations and decide if there's abuse, or potential abuse. Now, that could be physical _or_ emotional abuse. Both count."

"That's happened before," Puck nodded, "when one of Ma's boyfriends called. She came, and Sarah and me - we made her go away. We can be... uh, very convincing."

"I have no doubt," said Burt, and they both cracked up. Kurt shook his head, marveling at the boyness of them both.

"Anyway," Puck said, when they were calm again, "let's say they decide: yeah, this house sucks. What happens next?"

"Then they would place you and Sarah into the safest home available. They'd look first at a family member. That could be your brother. You said he's an adult?"

Puck nodded, looking like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Yeah, Timothy's twenty one."

"He'd have to pass a home study, get a background check, and show the ability to support you in his home. If he couldn't do that... they'd look for a close family friend to place you with."

Now Puck looked hopeful. "Like, maybe Carole? We could... we could live with Finn!" He turned wide, jubilant eyes on Kurt, who felt a little breathless under the force of Puck's emotion.

"I don't know for sure," Burt cautioned, "but they were very clear that a close family friend comes before an unrelated foster care family. _If _that family can be shown to be safe, and meet the needs of you and Sarah."

Puck swallowed. "They probably... wouldn't place us with my... um. My boyfriend." He looked up at Burt. "Would they."

"Doubt it," Burt agreed grimly. "I think the only way you'd be able to make this fly, Puck, is for you guys to keep your relationship a secret. And that might come back to bite you in the butt later, if social services finds out you're together. I think your best bet would be to go with your brother, but Carole could be a possible backup. When's your birthday, anyway?"

"July 12," Puck said, and Kurt engraved it on the calendar in his heart.

"So, yeah. You've only got a year and a half before you're an emancipated person anyway. Sarah's the one who's got to consider the long term of this thing. You're going to have to talk to her about what she wants."

Puck stood. Kurt watched him wander around the room, emitting nervous energy like solar flares, and he knew what to do. He grabbed Puck's hand and hauled him away into the back office, saying, "Okay, Dad - thanks for all that information... we've got something we need to discuss too. Be out in a minute."

"What is it?" Puck asked, as Kurt closed the door behind him.

"We're going to reprise a notable scene from last night's midnight feature," said Kurt, undoing his pants and smiling at Puck. "You, on the floor in front of me, right now."

"Dude," breathed Puck, dropping to his knees, "that was my favorite scene, too."

* * *

><p>"I still can't believe we got Noah to fall asleep so early," Kurt said, closing the door to Finn's guest bedroom and backing out into the hallway. "Will he really stay out if you're playing the drums in your room?"<p>

"I think so," Finn nodded. "He doesn't usually sleep very well at night. He said he was up at midnight last night and drove around somewhere. So, lack of sleep, plus all that pasta for dinner, plus what you did with your mouth just now -"

"I got it." Kurt walked into Finn's room and sat down at the keyboard. "He was out like a light. And boy, that was a _lot_ of pasta. You guys can really eat."

"Strapping young men need lots of carbs," Finn said, thumping his chest, making Kurt giggle. "What?"

"Oh, just the idea of strapping... young men," Kurt said, and Finn's eyes took on a thoughtful expression. "No, don't go there," he cautioned. "We're still practicing. Remember? Music... play the notes... surprise for Noah?"

"Hey, you're the one who brought it up," Finn said, shaking the image from his head.

Kurt sighed. "Mercedes said she can't help us tonight. We need a second backup singer, anyway. Who could we invite?"

Finn looked at Kurt, and leaned forward. "What about Rachel?"

"She could sing it," Kurt said, playing the first eight bars on Finn's keyboard. "She'd be fine. Better than fine, actually." His brow furrowed. "But Finn, she's in love with you. Wouldn't she see an invitation as a come-on?"

"Not if _you're_ the one to invite her," he said, leaning on the desk. "This is your chance to make up with her after treating her so badly. You could apologize, wipe the slate clean, and start over."

"Do I have to?" Kurt said, wrinkling his nose, like he was being asked to take out the garbage.

Finn looked at him carefully. "No," he decided. "You don't have to. But I would _really_ appreciate it."

"Ah," said Kurt, smiling. "Manipulation and emotional blackmail. Are these really the currency in which you want to deal, Finn?"

"I think you lost the right to ask that question when you told Rachel she could seduce me by dressing like the love child of an X-rated Little Orphan Annie and Mister Mistoffelees," Finn said, holding out the phone. "Are you going to call her or not?"

Kurt scowled and grabbed the phone from his hand. "Fine."

"That's my baby," Finn smiled, and Kurt pointedly snubbed him, spinning Finn's desk chair around to face away from him.

"Hi - Rachel?" he said, in a perfectly civil tone. "It's Kurt. Hope I'm not calling too late on a school night. I - I wanted to say I was sorry, about the thing with Finn." He glanced over his shoulder, but Finn wasn't watching him. "It was wrong of me," he added. "I hope you can forgive me. I'm really on your side. After all, he's in love with someone else."

"It's true," he heard Finn say, quietly; "I _am_ in love with someone else." Kurt stifled a smile before going on.

"Anyway... can we put that behind us? I have an idea for Glee, and I could use your help." This time he did smile, and played a victory chord on the keyboard: _da-dum!_ "Great. Can you come over to Finn's house? We really need your voice."


	33. Chapter 33

"Mom?" Carole looked up from her novel to find Finn standing in the doorway. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Sure, honey," she said, patting the couch next to her. Finn sat down and rubbed his neck. "What is it?"

"Um," he said, and paused. She didn't say anything about the blush creeping up his neck. "Puck, and Kurt... well, it's a special occasion tomorrow. I was hoping we could have... a date. Here, at the house." He looked up at her through lowered eyes. "Uh, alone."

"Are you asking me to get lost so you guys can make out?" She grinned and rumpled his hair.

"Well, that's part of it," he grinned back. "But Puck's supposed to be watching Sarah, and I was kind of thinking she needed a night out, after this weekend, you know? And her birthday's Wednesday."

"You want me to take Sarah out for her birthday?" she said. "Finn, that's really sweet."

"And maybe... Burt could go along too?" He glanced at her again, watching her reaction, and she carefully did not do anything to betray her feelings. _There are some things you just don't tell your sixteen year old son,_ she thought, _and this is one of them._

"Honey, that's really sweet," she said again. "It was nice to see Burt tonight for dinner. You invited him, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "I hope that was okay. Should I have asked first?"

"No, that was fine." She sighed, dog-earing her book and putting it aside before turning to face him. "But, Finn, it seems like you're trying to... I don't know, play matchmaker or something. Burt and I - we're just friends. I'm glad you and Kurt are together, I really am. But you need to let me handle this my way, okay?"

Finn looked confused for a moment, but he nodded. "Okay, mom. I'm sorry."

"Finn." She hugged him. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. And I'll invite Burt along another time. He's always welcome at our house. Sarah and I will go out on Tuesday, just us girls, okay? Will you let her know she can come over after school, and we'll plan an amazing evening together. Far away from the house."

"Mom, you are the best," he said, smiling big enough to break her heart. "Thanks so much." He headed up the stairs. She waited a few minutes to make sure he was gone before picking up the phone and pressing redial.

"Hi," Burt said, and she could hear the smile over the phone.

"Hi," she replied, smiling back helplessly, feeling like a complete idiot. "Look, I've got a problem. Can we reschedule Tuesday night? I... I told Finn I would take Sarah out for her birthday."

"No problem," he said. "We can all go out together. It'd be fun. Do you think she likes miniature golf? There's that glow-in-the-dark indoor place."

"Burt," she said quietly. "It's not much like we'd planned. You don't mind?"

"Well, I can't say I'm not a little disappointed." She felt a little thrill at his chuckle. "But I'm a big boy. I can wait another few days to see you alone."

"I'm honestly not sure _I _can," she whispered. "Dinner was... a little torturous."

"Do you think they saw us sneak off to the laundry room?" he murmured.

"I think Finn suspects something," she said. "He's the one who suggested we both take Sarah out for her birthday."

"Well, he's an intuitive guy." He cleared his throat. "Do - you think he'd mind? I mean, if something were going on between us?"

"Something _is_ going on between us," she said, glancing at the stairs, "in case you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, I'm noticing," he said. "Believe me, if you don't count some very unsuccessful first dates, it's been eight years. I'm noticing."

"Yeah," she said, and hid her face in her hand, even though no one was there to see her blush. "I'm noticing too."

* * *

><p>Puck's sleep hadn't been the best lately, but he didn't think much of the dream until it turned ugly. He woke up drenched in sweat, not remembering more than the sound of her scream and his blinding, horrifying certainty that he would never reach her in time.<p>

_Papa,_ she'd said. _Papa, help me!_ And then she'd been gone.

He wiped his face, guessing that some of the sweat under his eyes wasn't actually sweat at all, but not really feeling so good about the idea. Yeah, he cried when Kurt sang to him - or when Kurt sang to anybody, really - and he'd cried at that Harry Potter movie when Dumbledore bit it, and of course he cried when he and Finn and Kurt were doing... stuff. But he drew the line at crying over dreams about imaginary kids.

_I think she's imaginary, anyway,_ he thought, climbing out of bed and pulling on his shorts. He didn't really believe he was communicating with the future self of his daughter. Did he?

He noticed the light on in the kitchen as he stole downstairs, and went in to find Sarah asleep, propped up on her book, sprawled out on the kitchen table. "Squirt," he said, shaking her a little. "It's time for bed. Come on."

"I have to finish my math," she groaned. "My teacher's going to crucify me."

"You did finish your math," he lied. "Do you want me to carry you? Come on, get in the bathroom. And no reading under the covers."

He waited until she was definitely brushing her teeth before he quickly filled in the last twenty-three problems for her and stuck it in her backpack.

"Noah?" he heard, and walked out to the family room. His mother was sitting on the couch with a half-melted ice pack.

"Ma," he said, "you should be sleeping too."

"Migrane was too bad," she said, shaking her head and wincing. "I tried the medication Dr. Holdstein gave me, but it wasn't good enough to let me lie flat."

"You didn't take anything else, did you?" He took the ice pack from her and headed for the kitchen.

"No, Noah," she sighed. "I didn't take anything else. What a worrier you are."

He dumped out the ice and replaced it with fresh cubes from the freezer, refilling the tray as he went. He had a new tune in his head, and he hummed it over and over again as he worked, thinking about how it might sound on the guitar.

"Here you go," he said, bringing the ice pack back out to her. He handed the ice to her, but she didn't take it. She didn't do anything. She was just staring at the television, which wouldn't have been weird if the television had been on.

"Ma." He stepped in front of her and knelt down, right in her field of vision, but she didn't respond. He put a gentle hand on her knee. "Ma," he said again, louder. Her eyes were dark and unresponsive. "Fuck. Ma - can you hear me?" Still no answer.

He didn't know if he should shake her or leave her alone. He just sat there for several minutes, hoping something, _anything,_ would happen, but nothing did. He wondered if he should panic, or call 911, or just wait. It didn't feel like a big enough deal to do the first two things.

He just waited some more, for what felt like a really long time, but nothing continued to happen. His Ma just... wasn't there. She was breathing, but she didn't do anything else. _Was she asleep?_

And then, suddenly, she blinked, cleared her throat, and took the now half-melted ice pack from him. "Noah," she said irritably, "you said you were going to get me a fresh one? Please."

"Um, we're out of ice," he said. "This is all we have."

"Great," she sighed. "Well, I guess it will have to do."

_No, _he thought, moving automatically through the house to the kitchen. _I don't think it will. I don't think it will do at all._

Puck sat at the table and got out his phone, hesitating only a moment before flipping through to a number he hadn't ever called before. He dialed it now, put the phone to his ear, and waited.

"Hello?" said a sleepy voice.

"Meemee," he said, and coughed. "Uh, Timothy - it's Noah."

"_Noah?_ Oh my god - you sounded just like..." Now the voice was wide awake. "What's going on? For the love of Gaga, it's three-thirty in the morning."

"Yeah. I'm sorry to call so late. Early. Whatever. It's... it's Ma." His head felt heavy, and he rested it in his hand. "I need your help."


	34. Chapter 34

(Author's note: I'm very happy to say there's an apparently awesome 24-hour donut shop in Lima. I will look forward to stopping there the next time I drive through Ohio. Enjoy! -amy)

* * *

><p>Puck looked completely wrecked when Finn and Kurt came stumbling in to Pat's Donuts and Kreme a little after 6 am. The sun still hadn't come up, and there was no one else there but the morning staff.<p>

"Noah," Kurt said, rushing to put his arms around him. Finn watched in concern as Puck closed dark-circled eyes and lay his head on Kurt's chest.

"You could have called us from the hospital, you know," he said. "We would have been there."

"Yeah," Puck said, not smiling, "I know. I didn't... I wasn't ready to deal with questions about you with Timothy just then. I haven't seen him in five fucking years. He's finishing up at the hospital, and then he and Sarah will come here." He glanced up at Kurt. "Hey, and I said I was going to take you out for donuts, didn't I?"

"You said they're keeping her for observation?" Finn pulled a chair out and sat down, right next to Puck, their thighs touching. Puck put a hand on his knee and squeezed. Kurt sat on the other side and took his other hand, lightly stroking the hairs on the back of his knuckles with his thumb.

Puck nodded. "They said it's hard to know exactly what happened, but that it probably was some kind of seizure. They're going to take an EEG and some other tests and..." His face twisted. "We'll just have to see."

Finn slipped an arm around his shoulder, and Kurt moved in to put a hand over his heart. They leaned in together a little, making a shelter around Puck, shielding him from the noise and sound of the world outside. That's how they were when the door opened and Timothy walked in.

The memory Finn had in his head of Timmy was from over five years ago, that of an older boy with curly hair who played football. It was nothing like the tall, slender young man before him. He looked like he belonged in a fashion magazine. Finn didn't recognize the label of his blazer or his tailored shirt, but judging from Kurt's wide, calculating gaze, he did, and he approved. Timothy stopped in the door long enough to put out his cigarette, then slid off his sunglasses, smiling and shaking his head at Puck.

"I still can't believe you shaved your head, Noah," he said. His voice was light. He tucked a wisp of artfully frizzy hair behind his ear and pulled up a chair to sit across from the three boys. Sarah was a shadow beside him, silently moving to Kurt, who pulled her into his lap without hesitation. She sat and watched the boys with hooded eyes.

"It's Puck now," Puck said, quietly. "Since eighth grade. Yeah, there've been a few changes since you left."

"I can see that," Timothy said, giving Finn and Kurt a measured glance. Then he did a double take. "Oh my god. _Finn?" _

"Hey, Timothy," said Finn, smiling, and held out a hand across the table. Timothy shook it, his grip strong and firm, and laughed in amazement.

"Wow, it's good to see you." He looked at Puck again, then back at Finn, and finally at Kurt, his eyes growing more puzzled with each moment. "You, uh, you got tall."

"You did, too," Finn said. He suppressed an urge to stand up and assert his most-certainly-taller-than-Timothy dominance over the situation, and settled for a cool nod.

"I'm Kurt," said Kurt. He shook Timothy's hand with a polite smile. "Any further word on the EEG?"

"They said they'd call me when they knew something," Timothy said. "Honestly, nothing much was happening when we checked her in, other than her complaining about the room. Everything moves at the speed of bureaucracy in the hospital." He smiled wryly. "I'll call you at school when they call me, okay?"

"Noah, you don't have to go to school today," Kurt protested, but Puck shook his head doggedly.

"I want things to be as normal as they can be. I'll - I'll just go nuts if I have to sit around all day at home. Anyway, we're performing today in Glee for Haverbrook. It'd throw everybody's choreography off if I wasn't there."

"What are you performing?" Timothy asked, politely. "Noah, you're in Glee club? I didn't even know you liked that kind of thing."

"There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me," Puck said. "And it's Puck."

"Sorry... Puck." Timothy ran his hand over his hair in a gesture that was familiar to Finn. _Puck did that, too. _"So, Glee club? You do that, too?" He looked at Kurt, who nodded.

"And me," said Finn. Timothy seemed surprised, but he didn't say anything. "We're doing a mash-up between the title song from the musical Hair and Beyonce's Crazy In Love."

"That's... unusual," said Timothy, blinking and rubbing his chin. He had Puck's lips, Finn saw, but his face was completely different, thinner, like Sarah's. Finn nudged Puck's thigh with his knee, and Puck shifted and nudged him back.

"It sucks," Kurt said flatly, and Timothy laughed. He had a nice laugh, open and relaxed. Finn recognized that laugh. He remembered Timothy had liked the cartoon _Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends_, that they'd watch it together after school some days, and it would make him laugh, just like that.

"Can I have a donut?" Sarah asked, quietly, almost tentatively. Finn had never heard her sound like that before. He rose from his seat at the same time as Timothy did, and they regarded each other for several seconds before Timothy sat back down, slowly.

"Sure," said Finn, taking her hand. "Let's pick some out."

Puck unfolded from Kurt's half-embrace and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. While Sarah chose a dozen donuts for the table, Finn watched Timothy and Kurt looking at each other, sizing each other up. "I like the blazer," Kurt said. "Juicy Couture. Toddon, right?"

"I guess," Timothy said, looking down at his clothes like he didn't realize what he had on. "I get advice from friends about what looks good. My fashion sense is terrible."

"I hear you do sound for Lady Gaga?" Kurt said, accepting a cup of coffee from Puck with a smile and a touch of his hand. He sipped slowly, watching Timothy over the brim of the cup. Finn noticed Puck didn't get a cup for Timothy.

Timothy nodded. "I'm a junior engineer for her shows, and I've done some work on the last album. She's between shows right now, so I'm back in town, but I spend a lot of time at her studio in Brooklyn when she gets on a writing binge. We did the Monster Ball tour last spring."

"How was that?" Kurt asked, hesitantly. Finn realized he was waffling between burning curiosity, and staying standoffish from Timothy out of loyalty to Puck.

Even in his distraught state, Puck apparently noticed too, because he sighed and said, "Kurt's a huge fan. Throw him a bone here."

"Oh, a little monster, huh?" Timothy said, grinning. "I'll be sure to bring back another copy of her demo tracks next time I go out there. The tour was incredible, just a real whirlwind. It's easy to get caught up in her energy."

"My dad wouldn't let me go to the Cleveland show last year," Kurt said, pouting. "He said I was too young. Next time for sure." He pulled Sarah back onto his lap, holding her around her middle.

"I bet I can get you promo tickets for the tour when it comes through next spring," Timothy said, and Kurt's eyes widened.

"You might have a new best friend, Meemee," Puck drawled, as Kurt spluttered thanks and tried to reign in his enthusiasm.

Timothy stood and got himself his own coffee. "Hey, if you can still call me Meemee, I get to call you Noah."

Puck didn't answer. Instead he picked up one of the dozen donuts and considered it. "So, Kurt, what's all this about a donut test?"

Finn felt himself go red and busied himself with doctoring his coffee to the appropriate level of sweetness, avoiding Kurt's eyes. "Well," Kurt said, flustered, "it's just a joke, really."

"I could use a good joke right now." Puck bit into a peanut cake donut and looked expectantly at Kurt.

"Well," Kurt said again, his gaze roving over the table, at the array of donuts laid before them, "I've just noticed... that the kind of donut a person likes might be connected, somehow, to the gender that person prefers. People who prefer cake donuts, they like boys, and people who prefer yeast donuts, they like girls."

Puck glanced down at the donut in his hand, wrinkling his brow. "Finn?" he said at last. "Was _that _what..."

"Yeah," said Finn, sighing and playing with his coffee stirrer. "It was."

"Huh," said Puck, and finished his donut with a lick of his fingers.

Timothy sat back, a smile playing over his lips as he watched the interaction between the three boys. Then he reached out, very deliberately moving a glazed donut out of the way, and selected a blueberry cake donut, taking a small, measured bite. "Mmmm," he said, smirking at Puck, whose jaw had gone slack.

"Really?" Kurt said, cocking his head to one side, a delighted smile spreading over his face. "I was just thinking metrosexual."

"Nope," said Timothy through a mouthful of cake donut. "Queer as a three dollar bill. Noah, why do you think I _left?_ You think Dad was kicking my ass every night because I was late coming home from dates with _girls?"_

"I - " Puck looked lost. "I don't really remember it," he admitted.

"Hmm," said Timothy, nodding. "Probably just as well."

Sarah reached out, defiantly grabbed the custard yeast donut and took a messy bite. "I don't like girls," she said. "Girls suck. I just like custard."

"Well, it's not foolproof," Kurt said, swiping some of the custard out of Sarah's donut and licking it off his finger. "I like custard, too. Just not in donuts."

"I tried a lot of Krispy Kremes," Finn volunteered, "before I realized that cake donuts were... a lot tastier."

Timothy broke into incredulous, melodic laughter. It was infectious, and even Puck smiled. "Finn, I never would have expected to hear you say that," he said.

"My mom says we were kind of obvious," Finn said, sipping his coffee. _Still not enough sugar._ "When we were kids."

"You mean you and... and _Noah?"_ Timothy looked at Puck, back at Finn, and his eyes widened as Finn reached out and briefly squeezed Puck's hand. "Holy shit. You guys, back then...?"

"No," said Puck. "But we totally should have." He grinned at Finn, and relaxed a bit more. "It would have been awesome."

"And Kurt," said Sarah. "Don't forget Kurt." She leaned back against him possessively, clutching the remains of her custard donut.

"I kind of guessed _you_... like cake donuts," said Timothy to Kurt. "Though I might as well have given up guessing. My gaydar sucks as bad as my fashion sense, apparently." He shook his head. "My little brother?"

"Not gay," said Puck, waving a finger in the air. "Just really into these guys."

"These... guys." Timothy looked at Finn, then at Kurt. "Both of them?"

"All of us," said Finn. He stared back at Timothy, accepting his challenge, and daring him to say anything bad about any of it.

"Well." Timothy waggled his head in amazement, opened his mouth, and laughed. "That's... very progressive of you, Noah, Finn... Kurt. More power to you." He took a sip of his coffee. "Does Ma know?"

"Since Saturday, all our parents know," said Kurt. "We did a... a kind of coming out soiree, as it were."

"She wasn't happy," said Puck. Sarah snorted, and they all looked at her.

"You guys are so annoying sometimes," she said, and mimicked Puck's tone. "'She wasn't happy.' Ma was _pissed._ She _hates_ that you're together. And you - you're not 'really into' these guys. You're _crazy_ about each other. You want to fucking _live_ together and have _babies_ and stuff. Why not just own it? Why are you so scared?" She turned to Puck. "And this - this is _Timmy,_ Noah. He's your brother, remember?" She crossed her arms and glared at them. "Whatever is bad between you, give it up. We've got to figure out what to do about Ma. I can't have you messing around like this."

There was a silence, into which Finn said, "You're right, Sarah. We're sorry. Sometimes... guys aren't so good at communicating."

"Damn straight," she said, her grownup words and her little girl tone at such odds that Finn had to smile, but he hid it behind his coffee cup.

The look Kurt gave Finn as he cleaned up the table was contemplative. "I think Sarah might be... good at what you do," he said quietly. "Someday."

"It's always been clear who wears the pants in their family," Finn agreed.

Timothy went over to Puck, took his shoulder and hauled him up out of his chair. Puck faced him, looking for all the world like he'd rather bolt, but at last he sighed and held out his hand. Timothy shook it. "Sorry, man," said Puck. "It's been a long time."

"Yeah," said Timothy. "Way too long." He looked down at Puck. "These guys - are you treating them right?"

"They're treating _me_ right," said Puck. "Seriously. I'm kind of lost without them."

Kurt made a noise in his throat, and Finn put his arms around Kurt from behind, feeling the prickle of tears in his eyes. He blinked and looked at Sarah, who was padding up the last of the sugar from the table with her fingertips. She smiled up at Finn, the first real smile he'd seen from her that morning.

"Thanks for the donut," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back. "Happy early birthday."

"Noah," said Kurt. Puck came to them, standing close, not touching.

"We should get to school," Finn said. "There's a lot going on today." He caught Puck's gaze. "We can reschedule tonight," he added, quietly. "You've got enough to think about."

Puck considered the two of them, standing together. Then he wrinkled his brow, and shook his head. "No way, man. You set the scene. You can count on me to be there." He looked around, quickly, at the nearly empty restaurant, then leaned in and gave Finn a kiss, a real kiss, right there in front of Timothy and God and everybody. Then he did the same to Kurt. "I can't wait," he whispered.

Then he took Sarah's hand and strode out, without looking back. Sarah waved, and they returned the wave.

Timothy cleared his throat and pulled out his cell phone. "Let me get your number, Finn, just in case I can't get through to Noah today," he said. "I'll be at the hospital later today. You guys - you'll be together this evening?" Finn nodded, and Timothy looked somewhat flummoxed, but he accepted this. "Okay. It's good to see you again, Finn." He reached for Kurt's hand, and shook it. "And good to meet you, Kurt. I'm glad you're... there... for Noah."

"Maybe you can be, too," said Kurt, following him out to the parking lot. "He misses you."

Timothy sighed. "It's complicated, but - yeah. I think we're both old enough to deal with some of that crap we got dealt as kids."

Finn nodded. "He could use some help sorting through it all. He doesn't remember much of it, and what little he does mostly comes back in his dreams."

"We could both use a little therapy." Something like amusement flitted across his handsome face. "Hell... a lot. But he and Sarah, at least they still have a chance to have a good relationship with Ma."

"No," Kurt said, shaking his head regretfully. "They don't. She's abusing them. They shouldn't be in that house."

"Kurt," said Finn, but Kurt was adamant. He wheeled on Finn, his eyes blazing.

"She's undermining Noah's self-esteem; she's making him doubt his worth. That's abuse, pure and simple. She's giving him every reason to be a statistic. I'm not going to let that happen." He dashed away the moisture from under his eyes angrily. "You saw a little of it at your house, but it was worse, Finn. I have no doubt it's much worse, every day, for Sarah. Do you really want to be responsible for ruining any chance she has at a normal life?"

"No," said Finn, wearily. "Of course not."

"Well, neither do I," he snapped, leaning forward on his toes. Finn watched as Timothy edged closer to his car, no doubt trying to get away from this whirlwind of sudden fury. Finn did just the opposite: he stepped into Kurt, absorbed his anger and frustration, breathed it in, and held his flying hands tight against his chest. Kurt struggled for just one frenzied moment, and then stopped, leaning against Finn. Finn could feel him shaking, and ignored the funny looks they were getting from passers-by in the parking lot.

"I know you love her," said Finn, into his hair. "She's a great kid, and she's kind of made a claim on you, on us. To her, we're already part of her family. I don't take that lightly. I know how much she needs that. Kurt, I _know._"

Kurt stared after Timothy, who was hovering by his car door now. "They need you," Kurt said to him, his words thin and sharp as darts. "They need you a lot, right now. Don't let them down."

Timothy shook his head, slipping on his sunglasses. "Kurt... I don't think you understand. After I left home, Sarah and I, we stayed connected. We've been talking, letters and email and phone calls. It's Noah who didn't want to talk to _me._ If he's ready to be my brother again, I'm ready to have that. It's what I want."

"Let's talk about this later, guys," said Finn calmly, still holding on to Kurt's hands. "Thanks, Timothy. I'll keep my phone with me all day. Call if you need anything."

"I'll do that, Finn." The car door slammed, and he was out of the parking lot in five seconds, tires squealing on the pavement.

Kurt pulled his hands free, glaring at Finn. "Why were you being so nice to him? He seems to think they can fix things with his mother, but we know that's not going to happen. Noah needs a champion now, not a band-aid."

"You're not going to get him to listen to you by blaming him and pissing him off, either." Finn reached for Kurt's hair, but Kurt pulled away. Finn tried not to feel hurt. "Legally, he's the only family Puck's got right now, besides his Ma. Puck needs him on his side." He squinted after Timothy's car. "And he's not a bad guy. He was always a good brother to Puck. I mean, his Ma's in the hospital. Can't you give him a break?"

Kurt blew out his breath, scrubbing his hands over his face in irritation. "Yes," he said, at last. "Yes, I can. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such a -" His hands fell. "God."

"Right now, we're just going to be there for Puck. He's going to need us to be strong for him. This isn't going to be easy for any of them, no matter what else happens." He took Kurt's hand and tugged him back into an embrace. "Hey. It's okay."

"You're always so calm," Kurt complained, and sighed. "How do you _do_ that?"

Finn thought about it, running a hand over Kurt's back. "I guess it's like - I'm down when you're up. What do you call that, in math?"

Kurt's brow furrowed. "The inverse?" he suggested, and Finn nodded.

"Right, that. Whatever you're feeling, I feel kind of the opposite. Maybe your energy feeds me, somehow, makes me more of what you need from me."

"You really think it works like that?" Kurt seemed stunned.

"Maybe," Finn said. "And do you know what else?"

"What?"

Finn smiled. "We just came out to somebody. Two people, if you count Brad yesterday. And the world didn't end."

Kurt's back straightened. "I guess it didn't." Then he glanced around them nervously and took a few paces away from Finn. "But I still don't think we're ready to be spotted snuggling in the parking lot of Pat's Donuts."

"Okay," said Finn. _Slow and easy. There's no rush._ "I'll see you at school, all right? Are we still rehearsing that song after lunch?"

"Rachel, Mercedes and Brad are meeting us in the auditorium," said Kurt, unlocking the door to the Escalade. "And - " He looked suddenly very small and forlorn. "It sounds terrible, but... I can't tell you how much I look forward to making out with you in the closet before fifth period."

"Don't forget about tonight, baby," he said, and Finn saw the blush begin. He knew where that blush went, under Kurt's tailored shirt, and it warmed him all the way to school.


	35. Chapter 35

(Author's note: Thank you to the amazing and talented knittycat99 for beta-reading the last twelve chapters, and probably all those to come! Thanks to her, the ending of the last chapter didn't suck. All those in favor of the story not sucking? I thought so. Warning: minor angst ahead. Enjoy. -amy)

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><p>"Puck." Finn had to say his name three more times before Puck heard him, and when he looked up, his eyes were distant. He leaned against the locker next to Puck. "How are you holding up?"<p>

"Just tired, more than anything," he said. "I had a dream last night."

"About your dad?" Finn said, softly.

"No." Puck looked at his shoes. "About the baby."

Finn sighed. "I thought we'd settled this."

"It was awful, Finn," he whispered. "She was alone, and she needed me. And I wasn't there." He shook his head. "I really think there's something here, something I'm supposed to understand."

"Yeah, it's that you're tired and freaking out about your mom," Finn said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Puck's gaze stayed on the floor. "She's going to be okay."

"How do you know that?"

"Because the doctors are going to take care of her."

Puck shook his head. "No - the _baby._ How do you know _she's_ going to be okay? She's my responsibility, no matter what, no matter if I'm ready for her or not. She's _real._ I'm gonna have to do something."

"No, Puck." His tone made Puck straighten and look up. "You don't have to do anything. Quinn's going to find a good family for her, and she's going to grow up someone else's kid. You've got to give this up. It's hurting you."

"I don't know if you can get this, man." He hesitated, then plowed on. "But it would hurt me _more_ if I gave her up. I need to be part of this, somehow. She's part of me."

Finn knew they'd reached the limit of acceptable touch in the hallway of McKinley High School, and he didn't think he could resist Puck's haunted eyes much longer. He stepped away. "We'll talk about this later. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Puck whispered, and shoved his hands into his jacket before trudging down the hall to class.

* * *

><p>They successfully avoided Puck after lunch by suggesting he call the hospital from the office to check on his Ma, and slipped away to the auditorium. Brad had devised some really inspired synthesizer parts to go with the piano on the Lady Gaga song, and both Mercedes and Rachel had excellent ideas for choreography.<p>

"This is already ten times better than that stupid hair mash-up," Rachel said excitedly. "Why can't we do this one for sectionals instead?"

"Because Lady Gaga hasn't released the track yet," said Kurt. "It's not even supposed to be out for distribution. We just got a copy from... a friend who knows her."

"Since when do you know someone who knows Lady Gaga?" Mercedes demanded.

Kurt tipped his head. "Let's just say it was a gift, and we have to treat it that way. No public performances. Just for Glee. Let's go over the bridge one more time."

It wasn't until the very end of their rehearsal that Kurt realized Rachel was crying. He exchanged a glance with Mercedes. "Are - are you okay?" Mercedes asked.

"This song," she sobbed. "Kurt, I know why you chose it."

"You do?" He felt a stab of fear.

She turned glistening eyes on him, and smiled. "It was for me, wasn't it? To say... that you understand what I'm going through."

"What _you're_ going through?" Kurt said, outraged, but Mercedes cut in.

"Of course that's why he picked it," she said, giving him a quelling look. "He's just that kind of guy."

"I feel like every line was written for me," she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Well, except my dads never threatened to cut my hair if I didn't dress the way they said I should."

"I think Lady Gaga has that effect on people," Mercedes said. "Everybody wants to be understood, to be seen for who they really are." She ran fingers through her heavy bangs. "And we all hide, under our hair, or other things sometimes."

"I hide under being a jock," said Finn, and they turned to stare at him. He shrugged. "You know. Like everybody expects me to be a certain way because I play football and stuff. It's my cover."

"Yeah," said Rachel, watching him with shining eyes. "But inside, you're just... yourself, wanting to be free, wanting to be... loved. For who you are."

"Yeah," Finn replied, gazing back at her, and past her, to where Kurt stood.

Kurt ignored the tightening in his gut and cleared his throat. "Okay, guys... let me show you what I had in mind for the beginning. Can we meet before school tomorrow to go over it one more time? Brad... from the top, if you please."

Before they left for fourth period, Rachel stopped Kurt and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said. "For the song. I wasn't sure, after what happened... if you wanted to be friends. But I'm glad you do."

Kurt had a strange sensation that he couldn't quite identify for a moment, but realized with a start that it was _affection._ For Rachel Berry. "It's... my pleasure, Rachel," he said. "Thank you for helping us. Helping me," he amended. "With the song. You're really talented."

"So are you, Kurt," she said, and hugged him before he could do anything to stop her.

* * *

><p>Finn's hands were already deep in Kurt's hair and their tongues were down each other's throats when Puck ducked into the janitor's closet after fourth period. He never felt jealous to find them together. It actually made him feel good to know they were so into each other. It was comforting, in a way, to know he could count on that. <em>Plus, they're smoking hot,<em> he thought, but today it was with a vague, detached appreciation. He locked the door behind him and sat in the paint-splattered chair, leaning forward onto his knees.

"Sweetheart," said Kurt, pulling away from Finn and coming over to Puck, running soft hands over his back.

"I don't think I can handle that right now, Kurt," Puck said. His heart felt shuttered, put away, and he didn't know how to get to it, or even if he wanted to.

"What?" Kurt was startled.

"_Sweetheart,_" he said, and it stuck in his throat. "My Ma calls me that too."

"I - I didn't know," Kurt said, and he took his hands away. "I don't have to call you that, if you don't want me to. I thought you liked it."

"I do," he promised. "Really. I'm a total sap and I love it. Just... not right now."

"Okay," Kurt said softly.

Finn sat on the floor next to Puck, which seemed really strange to him. He didn't quite know quite how to handle how it made him feel. "Nothing from the hospital?" Finn asked.

"I talked to her at lunch," he said. "She sounds fine, ornery as all fuck, but totally awake and everything. She knows what happened but she doesn't remember it. We're just waiting on tests now." He sighed. "I hate waiting."

"Maybe we can distract you," said Finn, running a hand up the inside of Puck's thigh. Puck put a hand on Finn's and shook his head.

"No, thanks," he said. "It's just - it's good to be alone with you guys, instead of out there. Nobody knows what's happening except you. I kind of want to keep it that way."

The sound of a key in the lock was so unexpected that at first, they all just sat there, staring at each other, but then Puck sprang up, and they were all standing apart, carefully not touching, not looking like anything was going on. Except, of course, they were in a locked janitor's closet that was definitely off limits to students. "Hey!" said a voice, and Puck made a break for it, ducking under the man's arm, down the hall and out of sight before he could even be identified.

"What are you guys doing in here?" he heard the custodian say, angrily, to Finn and Kurt, but he didn't stick around to find out what stupid-ass answer they were going to come up with. _They're lousy liars, anyway,_ he thought.

Puck cast around for someone who could help, and saw Brad walking with a big box. "Here, let me help you with that," he said, taking the box.

Brad looked startled, but said, "Oh, hey, thanks."

"And I could use your help," he said, steering Brad in the direction of the janitor's closet. "Finn and Kurt are in trouble - we got caught in the closet together. Can you get us out of it?"

"Um," said Brad, and then his eyes lit on Finn, getting chewed out by the custodian, who looked ready to drag him down to Principal Figgins' office. "Hey," he said, jovially. "Thanks, guys. I really needed that... um, paper towel." He reached into the closet, under the suspicious gaze of the custodian and the startled, guilty looks of the two boys, and grabbed a few rolls off the shelf. "Sorry, Jeff, I just asked these students to stop by the supply closet for some paper towel. I hope it wasn't a problem."

"No," the custodian said, relaxing. "Not a problem, Brad. Just, maybe send a note next time, so I don't jump on them for no reason. Sorry, kids."

"It's okay," said Kurt, picking up a package of paper towel too. They meekly followed Brad up the hallway to a staircase, then up to the second floor. A door at the top of the stairs took them down another short hall and up a second stair. This was the old part of the building, seldom used for anything but storage.

"Seriously, you guys have been making out in the janitor's closet?" Brad asked in a mild voice, and Finn laughed nervously.

"It - sounds pretty bad, when you say it that way," he admitted. Brad turned to Finn, looked him up and down, and gave a little snort.

"Well, I might have an alternative for you." He pushed open a door that swung in to reveal a sun-dappled room, half of which was taken up by the slant of the roof, and the other half of which was lined from floor to ceiling with wooden bookshelves. Every shelf was stacked with file boxes, neatly labeled, and piled besides with stacks of paper. Closer inspection revealed that the paper was sheet music, photocopies and originals.

"Will decided this stuff should really be in the choir room," he said. "We have enough file drawers down there that we can have it all accessible, and not have to worry about the manuscripts fading in the light from the window. This room is superfluous." He raised an eyebrow to Finn. "You know what that means?"

"Um... it's got a really bad cold?"

Kurt cleared his throat. "Brad. Please don't tease the jocks." He put a hand on Finn's arm. "It means it's extra. They don't need it for anything else."

Puck looked around, touched the wooden paneling, the boxes of music. He walked to the window in the eaves and saw, far below, the ecology greenhouses, the parking lot and the football field beyond. It gave him a sense of mysterious awareness, as though he might be able to tell what was going on anywhere in the school from this room, as though he were on the bridge of a ship. "This is... fucking awesome." He turned to Brad and gave him a smile. "Who else knows about this room?"

"Pretty much just Will and me," Brad said. "I bet some of the other teachers might know about it, but they have no reason to come up here. This could be... yours." His eyes glittered. "But you have to do something for me."

"Um," said Kurt.

"Dude," said Puck. "I hope it's not illegal. Or... not too illegal, anyway."

"Child slave labor might be considered illegal," he said, taking a box down from the shelf. "But maybe not if it's voluntary. I need to move all these boxes and piles downstairs, and file the music. You up for that?"

They considered the shelves that ran the entire length of the room. "There's over two hundred boxes here," Kurt estimated. "That's going to take a while."

"We're not in a huge hurry," Brad said. "Before you graduate would be good."

Finn smiled gratefully. "I think we can handle it," he said, and held out his hand. "You've got a deal."

Each one took a box. They were heavy, full of papers, and some of them were falling apart, but it wasn't too much effort to carry one.

"I'm guessing you've already got a key?" Brad said, not looking at them as they flipped off the light.

"Maybe," said Puck.

It was indicative of how invisible Brad was at McKinley that no one questioned or even noticed the three boys carrying the boxes of papers. Perhaps others thought it was a punishment, but to Puck, it felt like the kindest freedom, not to be noticed, to be completely apart from the student body. They stacked the boxes inside the choir office door, and Brad showed them the empty file cabinets.

"I can write you a pass today," Brad said, "but I don't think I can do that every day. Maybe every now and then, when you really need... extra time. For this project."

"Of course," Kurt said, his eyes dancing. He accepted the pass with a little skip, and ran off to give Mr. Wright the reason they were missing history. Finn and Puck unloaded and broke down the boxes, and stacked them against the wall in the hallway.

"I'll explain it to Will," said Brad. "Without telling him anything."

"This is awfully nice of you," Finn said, but Brad waved it away.

"I wish someone had understood what we were going through when Andi and Laurie and I got together. It wasn't something we'd ever heard of before, so we were making it all up, and we made a lot of mistakes. It would have been a lot easier if we'd had someone to talk to."

Finn nodded. "Any words of wisdom?"

"Honesty, as much as possible," he said, "sometimes to the point of obnoxiousness. Attention to each partner is really important. Being fair, which isn't always about being equal, but just listening to each other and figuring out what the others need. Oh, and be willing to be jealous. It's normal, everybody feels it, and it'll pass."

"_I_ don't," said Puck.

Brad grinned. "Well, you probably will, someday." He gestured to Kurt, who was on his way down the empty hall with an expression of smug satisfaction. "Have fun, guys. See you in Glee."

They positively scampered up the two flights of stairs to the attic storage room and closed the door behind them with a click. With secret smiles, they prowled through the silent room, appreciating every wall socket (five), every windowsill (two, one high, one low), every surface. "We're going to need to clean this place," said Kurt.

"I kind of feel like I've been given a clubhouse," said Finn, reaching up and touching the rafters. "Anybody object if I bring, like, a rug or a lamp or something?

"As long as you don't let Kurt decorate," said Puck, grinning at Kurt's protest. "But a couple of folding chairs would be good. I can swipe them from the orchestra room."

"Do you think we should bring some more boxes downstairs now?" asked Kurt.

"In a little bit." Finn took his hand and stood in the center of the room. "Come here." He pulled Puck over to them, and with his long arms, he made a space for both Puck and Kurt, wrapped them up, and just held on tight. Puck felt Kurt's heartbeat under his hand, and Finn's under his cheek, and when he closed his eyes, he knew he could be anywhere, in any building, in any city in the world, and if he had these two guys with him, he would be at home.

When they moved apart, Puck's face was wet, and he didn't bother to pretend it was because of the dust, or anything else, because, _fuck._

"I love you guys," he said, hearing the words coming out of him, and they sounded good in the sun-dusted light of the attic room. And the next words were easy, too, because he knew they were there, that they would help, would help with everything. "I'm scared about what's going to happen."

"I know, sw - Noah," said Kurt.

"It's okay, Kurt," he said, turning his head and bending to kiss him. "You can call me that now. It's okay. I'm ready to hear it now. I need it." He felt Kurt's lips on his neck, and he sighed. "Please."

"Sweetheart," Kurt whispered. "My Noah, my sweetheart."

"Yeah," he said, hoarsely. He let the balm of Kurt's voice carry him into a place of calm, where he didn't have to worry, and nothing would hurt him.


	36. Chapter 36

_(Author's note: this chapter is so short because that which follows might stand alone.)_

* * *

><p><em>Mercedes and Artie sounded really good,<em> thought Kurt, and that was about the kindest thing he could think as the song ground through to its inevitable conclusion. Judging by the looks on the faces of the students from the Haverbrook School for the Deaf, they were having trouble finding something charitable to say, too.

"It didn't work at all, did it," he heard Rachel say to Mr. Schue, as they picked up their wigs and made room for the students in red blazers on the risers.

"It was just the rehearsal," said Mr. Schue. "It's a little rough, but I think we're onto something." And even he wasn't telling the truth.

"I wish we could have done the Gaga song," said Rachel to Kurt as they walked to their seats.

"We're going to have to figure out something," he agreed. "I hope tomorrow Mr. Schue will see what we're missing."

But it became glaringly, eye-stabbingly obvious, at least to Kurt, what had been missing from the New Directions' performance when he watched the Haverbrook students sing John Lennon's masterpiece. _Honesty. _He swallowed. _When did we become the glee club that had to pretend to be something other than what we are? _

Mercedes felt it, too. He could tell by the look she shot him down the row, as she started to sing along, and joined the deaf students on the risers.

_Imagine all the people_

_Living life in peace_

_You may say I'm a dreamer_

_But I'm not the only one_

_I hope someday you'll join us_

_And the world will be as one_

They welcomed them, with smiles and generous arms, and showed them how to make the signs to say, however clumsily, the lyrics' dreams and wishes for a better world. He watched Puck barely holding back tears, and was glad he was in the back row.

_Imagine no possessions_

_I wonder if you can_

_No need for greed or hunger_

_A brotherhood of man_

_Imagine all the people_

_Sharing all the world_

Kurt remembered Sarah's game, in which they imagined their future one, five and ten years hence. Suddenly, so many of the dreams they'd named seemed trite and unimportant. _If I'm going to dream big,_ he thought, _I should make it count. It's not about winning Tonys or making musicals, as thrilling as those things would be. It's about the people I love, and the world we live in, making it a better place._

_You may say I'm a dreamer_

_But I'm not the only one_

_I hope someday you'll join us_

_And the world will live as one_

And, at last, he saw that Mr. Schue got it. He looked directly at Kurt and smiled ruefully as they gave the group an honest round of applause in ASL.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Puck?" Darlene Cho paused on her way down the hall and leaned on the locker next to his. "Can I ask you a favor?"<p>

"Uh," he said. "I'm not sure I'm really up for that stuff anymore... see, I'm kind of seeing somebody..."

"No," she said, making a dismissive gesture. "Not that kind of favor. It's about your dates."

_My dates?_ His heart gave an extra skip. "How did you find out about them?"

"Santana," she said, smiling slyly. "She told me how awesome they were."

He gave Darlene a weak smile. _That little bitch. She said she wouldn't say anything. And - wait, how did she find out about both of them?_ "What else did she say?"

"Well, how good they taste, for one. The sweet and salty - she said it's pretty intense. Can I get the recipe?"

"Sure," he said, smiling for real now, feeling the blood drain back into his face. "Yeah, I can email it to you -" And suddenly, there was Quinn, reaching around him and grabbing his cell phone from his locker. _Ah. Check._ Darlene drifted quickly away, not wanting to incur the wrath of a clearly pissed Quinn Fabray.

"Hey, babe," he said. "Um, you really don't want to do that."

She browsed through the texts from "Santana" and her face went from thunderstorm watch to impending gale. "You lied to me," she snapped.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to make it sound real. "I tried to resist Santana, I did, but girls have this... power over me. But it's all good."

"It's definitely not all good," she protested. "I thought you wanted to be with me."

"I do," he said. "Like, a lot." That sounded weak, even to himself, but he pressed on. "But you haven't given it up to me since the night I knocked you up. Babe, I'm a dude. I have _needs."_

Quinn raised an outraged eyebrow. "And you expect to raise a baby with me and take care of it, while sending dirty messages to every other girl at this school, if I don't _give it up _to you every day?"

"No," he scoffed. "Just the hot girls." He saw the resolve in her face as she strode away. _Check - and mate._

_I'm going to be a good dad, _he thought._ But I'm not going to stop being me to do it. _He watched Finn stride down the hallway, slip into the bathroom across the hall, and shoot him a smile on the way. _You're not part of my future family, Quinn. I'm going to make sure of it. _


	37. Chapter 37

_(Author's note: I was not planning to write this chapter, but I was inspired last night. At the end of this episode, Hairography (1.11), Finn comes out of the boys' bathroom and is surprised by Quinn. I always wondered why he looked so surprised to see her there. This is a PWP about what went down, so to speak, in the bathroom. Usual warnings for D/s apply. You can skip this chapter entirely if you'd rather not read the sex. Otherwise, enjoy! -amy)_

* * *

><p>Finn knew there was a bro code about not watching guys in the bathroom, but he wasn't sure if it applied to your boyfriend. In any case, when Puck came in, he didn't look like he was going to be put off by a little urinal etiquette. He was going for something - Finn wasn't exactly sure <em>what,<em> but it was... something.

"Dude," he said softly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was there. No one was. So, yeah, he reached out and grabbed Puck's hand, which was warm and moist, and pulled him in so he was close, close enough to let him feel Finn's breath on his neck. He slipped his arm around Puck's waist while Finn tucked himself back into his underwear and hiked up his jeans.

"You're sweating," he said. "What's going on?"

"I just faked out Quinn," he said, and started to laugh. He laughed the way a person might if he were a wind-up toy, and the laughing just kept coming out of him, the kind of laughing that doesn't sound much like laughing at all, but rather a stuttering, hiccuping jabber, the frightening sound of a circus clown, or a maniacal serial killer. He didn't think Puck was a serial killer, but this kind of laughing? Kind of scared the crap out of him.

Finn tugged him closer and brought his face down into Finn's chest, let him press his mouth into Finn's pecs, bury himself into the firm smoothness of Finn's masculine self. He needed this kind of closeness. Finn knew he needed it a lot. He would hold Puck as tightly as his arms could bear, and still Puck needed to be held tighter, needed to feel that pressure binding him, making him still, swaddling him.

"You faked her out," he whispered, into Puck's red ear. Puck stiffened, and Finn felt him go suddenly hard, as though he'd pressed a lever, _whoosh,_ from zero to 60 in two seconds flat. He made a mental note: _Whispering in the ear - total turn on._

"Yeah," Puck said, through his clenched teeth. "I made her think I wanted to be her baby's daddy with her. Me, the asshole who wants to fuck every girl at school." He laughed again, this time short and sharp, like a gunshot. "Oh, excuse me. _Only the hot ones._ And now there's no way she'd want to. Because did I mention? I'm an asshole."

"You're not an asshole." Finn pitched his voice in such a way that he knew it would register in Puck's gut, and if he wasn't at full attention yet, boy, he sure would be now. He made himself relax. "And if I recall correctly, the only person you're interested in fucking right now is currently getting his nails done in preparation for our date tonight."

Puck's lips went from sardonic to sweet in as short a time as it takes to say _Kurt Hummel is a sexy bitch. _"He's getting his nails done?" Puck said. Finn nearly rolled his eyes, but he knew he looked like that from time to time about Kurt, too. _Okay, maybe more often than that, _he thought, and grinned.

"Yeah, man," he said. "It's all for you. He's making them all smooth, ready to drag down your back." The lust of weeks, or possibly longer, of wanting Kurt permeated Puck's face, and Finn was gratified to see him lick his lips. Finn bent down and kissed the bottom one, sucking it into his mouth and giving it a little bite.

Puck let the moan roll out over his tongue and right into Finn's mouth, making it vibrate. They passed the moan back and forth like a candy, getting hotter with each toss, until Finn found himself humping Puck's hip without a whole lot of interest in pace or finesse or anything other than _fuck,_ he wanted to get off with Puck _now._

He slipped his own hand into his still-unzipped jeans and squeezed. Puck's attention was arrested by his movement, and he followed Finn's hand hungrily with his eyes, letting out a little whine when Finn did the squeeze. He tried it again - _squeeze -_ and sure enough, there was another whine, and Finn didn't want to try again because he thought he might just come right there if the whine got any needier.

"All right, now," Finn said, as though he were deciding what DVD to watch. "Here's one idea: I get that tonight is a big deal night for you, and I'd be happy to take the edge off. Or," he said, as Puck's eyes returned to his face, "you can get down on your knees and suck me, right here, and I'll let you come all over the floor. What's it gonna be?"

Puck's eyelashes couldn't possibly be as long as they looked, but they fluttered just like a girl's, just like Kurt's did, too, and he bit his lip like a girl. And fuck if he didn't stammer like a girl as he answered, but his voice was all man, low and rich and a little bit gritty. "I .. I want your cock in my mouth."

"How's that?" Finn said, gripping Puck's neck in his hand, and Puck gasped at the pressure.

"Sir," he spoke up, hurriedly. "Let me suck your cock, _sir."_

"I think that would do nicely," Finn said. "If you ask me again, I hope you'll say please."

"Yes, sir, please, sir, may I - can I -" But he didn't wait for permission, his hands just went right for Finn's jeans, which were tenting out now and wasn't he glad he wore his slightly baggier pair, because the tight ones would never have fit over that monster erection that Puck's words had just inspired in him. Puck dragged them down more efficiently than he would have expected, given his state of - what was that word Kurt used? - oh, yes, _ennui. _But then, Puck needed to be on his knees for Finn. It was just the way it was.

"That's a good boy," Finn said, smug and proud as any daddy, feeling Puck's hot breath on his cock through his shorts. He ran his hands through the stubbly hairs on Puck's head, gripping his fingers into Puck's mohawk and giving it one sharp tug. Puck's breath came out of him in a cross between a gasp and a laugh, and he felt Puck's mouth smiling as he pressed his face into Finn's groin. Puck breathed in, and he was _smelling him,_ he was fucking _inhaling his aroma,_ and wasn't that just the hottest thing since, well, anything really hot?

"I used to try to find ways to let me smell you without you noticing," Finn said, letting Puck take his time, making it last, because the way things were going, he wasn't going to take very long at all. "After football practice, and in the morning when you slept over."

"What did I smell like, sir?" Puck wondered, mouthing the head of Finn's cock through the fabric of his shorts, which were already wet and a little sticky.

Finn was finding it harder to remember anything other than Puck's name and the name of various deities at the moment, but he struggled to recall details. "Like... sandalwood soap, and the way a fire smells when you let it go out without burying it, just letting it burn. And sweat, the clean kind, almost like rainwater. And _fuck_, that feels good."

The moan came from the back of Puck's throat, the only noise he could make with Finn's cock wedged inside, and Puck didn't seem interested in getting it out of there any time soon. He wondered, as he often did, how Puck could possibly breathe with his cock (or Kurt's cock, which admittedly was smaller, but still filled his mouth completely without a lot of room for extra maneuvering) all the way inside. Finn himself could barely deep throat for ten seconds without choking or gagging - which was irritating, because he wanted to be a good lover, he really did, and now he was just getting whiny.

"You need to give me lessons in this, boy," he said, and he felt Puck's hand on his leg, stroking a pattern with his thumbs on Finn's inner thigh. It was light enough to feel gentle, but he knew what Finn was after, and gentle wasn't it. Puck knew him, knew what Finn needed as well as he himself knew Puck's needs, and _need_ and _gentle_ and _Finn_ just didn't go in the same sentence.

Puck's jaw might well have unhinged like a snake for the ease with which he took Finn deeper into his throat. Finn loved the way Puck loved to suck his cock, loved it like there was another prostate in his mouth, like he was from that movie _Deep Throat,_ which always made him laugh, but this was no laughing matter. It was just fucking hot, to watch Puck getting off from giving him head. He could come so easily just watching him do that.

"You want to do this to Kurt, don't you," he rasped, letting his hand trail over Puck's soft scalp. Puck's fingers were closer to their target now, still gentle, but Finn trusted Puck, like he trusted no one else, to know what he really wanted. "You want him in your mouth, laid out on that bed. You want to make him come at least once before you even touch his ass with your tongue."

Puck's answering moan was never a surprise, but always a treat, so thick and full of texture, like a slice of Puck's carrot cake. Puck made the best fucking carrot cake on the planet, slathered with warm cream cheese icing, and so moist because he put pineapple in it, and _how_ could Finn be hungry when Puck was doing _that_ with his fingers? He groaned in frustration and ground himself against Puck's questing, rooting digits. Someday he was going to figure out how to eat and have sex at the same time. That would be the best thing ever.

"Kurt loves it when you suck his cock," he said, and Puck did what Finn loved second best, which was to gaze up at him through those impossibly long lashes, Finn's cock deep in his throat, and let Finn fuck his mouth without letting go of his gaze. He held it, like a leash, like a lead, and wherever Finn went, Puck would follow, gladly, happily, with complete satisfaction. It was fantastic, and it just made him crazy to get it.

But then Puck did what he loved _best, _which was to finger-fuck him with only the saliva dripping from his mouth. It was a little raw and a little tight and _exactly _what he wanted, and he was going to have to get on with it because pretty soon he'd be coming and he'd be damned if he was going to let his boy come last. No fucking way.

"You're going to spread him open like a book, boy," he said, and watched Puck begin to writhe and thrust his hips, kneeling on the floor between his legs. "Unzip your pants; let me see what you have in there for him."

Puck undid his button fly, and Finn kicked himself for not paying closer attention, because _you can't unzip a button fly - that was bad form, man_. And hell if Puck wasn't going commando, because he peeked right out of those jeans like a weasel ready to strike. The jeans rode a little low, and he could see the head of Puck's cock edging over his jeans and along his belly. Puck dipped a finger inside, just to free some errant hairs from their prison, and _brushed_ along the head, which made him twitch and moan. _Puck wasn't going to last long, either,_ he thought with satisfaction.

"He wants to feel your tongue as deep as you can get it," he growled. "Come on, man. Make him feel it inside. Let him know what he's gonna get next."

Puck seemed to like this idea, if moaning and clutching Finn's hip with his free hand was any indication. The slick slap and slide of Finn's balls against Puck's face was a hot thing among all hot things, one Finn never would have expected to love or even thought of wanting, but it now provided the wet soundtrack to most of Finn's fantasies, like a gentle spanking: _slap... slap... slap. Time to ramp it up,_ he thought, feeling his own orgasm hovering on the horizon, an ephemeral thing, like a hummingbird, but knew it was near, so near.

"You're going to do it bareback, aren't you," Finn said, and Puck's eyes went round. He nodded, which Finn didn't think was possible with his cock so deep in his throat, but Puck apparently managed it without choking. _How did he fucking do that?_ Finn said, marveling at his boy's skill. _Thank god for Alex or whoever taught him, because, dude. _And he was not going to think about Puck sucking _other_ guys' cocks, because he had a job to do, and that was to get Puck off. Without one finger touching him.

"You get to be the first person ever to feel how hot Kurt is, inside," Finn's voice said, and for a moment his reptilian brain was in total Kurt-seeking mode, wanting his hair in his hands, wanting to rub Kurt's face into his crotch... but this wasn't about him. It was about _Puck._ He squared his shoulders and focused, letting the words fall faster from his mouth, breathy and dirty, the way Puck needed them to be. "Can you feel how tight? Are you right there, nudging his ass with your cock? Are you wet enough? Is he? Are you ready? Do you hear him saying it, _Are you ready, sweetheart?"_

Finn knew hearing him say that word was going to be the end of it, because of course Finn didn't call Puck _sweetheart_ or any such dumb-ass name, but somehow it seemed so right to say it just then. His cheeks burned bright with the way it felt, Puck's mouth on his cock and his finger in his ass and the word _sweetheart _on Finn's lips, and Puck came all over the floor of the men's john, arching into it with his hips and bucking once, twice before redoubling his efforts on Finn's hard, aching cock.

"He might come just from you sliding inside him," Finn said, as though nothing had changed, and he'd be damned if Puck didn't continue to twitch, staying hard enough to give him something to grip with his hand - except, of course, Puck didn't. He wasn't permitted. That was for Finn alone to do. Puck was strictly hands-off when it came to his own cock, and that rule Puck did not break, under penalty of a serious hiding. _Mine,_ Finn thought, almost dreamily, feeling the rolling waves of endorphins just under the surface of his consciousness. He might well float away on them, get pulled in by the undertow, and drown in Puck's mouth. _Mine, my boy, mine._

"You can keep fucking him until you're done, boy," Finn whispered, thrusting more quickly now, feeling his breath speed up, panting through his words. "It doesn't matter how many times he comes, because you're the one on top tonight, Puck. It's just where he wants you, wants to let it go for you, let you take him, take it all the way. Just for you." _He loves you,_ he didn't say, but he knew Puck heard it, in the pride in Finn's voice, felt it in the way Finn was claiming his mouth, like it was for the first time.

Puck's mouth was used and raw, but he never complained, never asked for Finn to stop or pulled away. He thought maybe Puck loved this even more than Finn did, even more than Kurt, who Finn knew would sometimes nip into the bathroom in the middle of the day, between classes, or even in the middle of class sometimes ("Miss Rowe, may I have a hall pass, please?" he would say, in his sweet, cultured voice), just take his boy into the nearest stall and ride his mouth until he was satisfied. And Puck would always remember so much more from class after that happened. His attention would be exquisite, and if his voice was a little ragged afterwards, so what? It was part of the price one paid to be the boy of two demanding Tops, and to be so good at what one did. And Puck was - good.

"You're so good," Finn crooned, and Puck just lapped it up like it was cream. "You're such a good boy, so good, love you, love your mouth, love to make you mine... such a good, good boy."

Puck let his eyes close, just for a moment, feeling the weight and import of Finn's words, feeling them deep inside. He only could _really _feel it at moments like these, on his knees with a cock in his mouth - or after a serious spanking, sitting on Finn's lap, crying and snotty with release. Finn knew this was when the real healing was happening. All the crap Puck had taken as a kid, all the damage to his self-worth, this was when it was turned on its ear and given a beating and then kissed and cuddled and sent to bed with warm milk. _This_ was the moment when they transformed Puck's pain into love.

It was what Finn waited for, what he seemed, miraculously, to be able to hold out for, and when he felt that Puck had earned what he'd worked for, only then did Finn allow himself to release, let go, and flood Puck's mouth with his bitter, salty come. Puck swallowed it right down, no complaints - not that he ever would have complained, even if it had tasted terrible. Finn didn't think it was so bad. He maybe kind of liked it. _Would that make him gay?_ he wondered, as Puck cleaned him off dutifully with his swollen tongue. _Liking dick, sure, who wouldn't - but liking the taste of a guy's come? That's super gay._ He didn't care. He was hot for Puck, hot for Kurt, and that was just the way it was.

Puck lay his head against Finn's heaving belly, and placed a sweet kiss on the space between his navel and his cock. "Thank you, sir," he said, taking long, slow breaths, making up for the lack of oxygen. "Thank you so much."

"That's my good boy," he said again, softly, cupping Puck under the chin. He took his hands and drew him up, wobbly, to stand next to him, his cock still half-hard, and kissed him. "You'll have to do without sitting in my lap today," he said. "I'm not getting down on this nasty floor. There's come all over it."

"I'll clean it up, sir," volunteered Puck.

"We'll do it together," said Finn. "We can't leave any for the custodians to find. We wouldn't want them cracking down on this bathroom, installing security cameras, or anything."

The deer-in-headlights look Puck gave him was worth the deception. He didn't really think they'd install cameras in the bathroom, no matter how gross the floors got. But it might be worth it if Puck thought they were there. He'd never pass up an opportunity to perform for a camera. And that would be something worth waiting to see.

Several dozen soggy paper towels later, Finn patted Puck's bottom and tucked him back into his jeans. "I'll see you at my house at 6. What's for dinner?"

"Stroganoff, sir," said Puck. "Beef for you, tempeh and mushroom for Kurt."

"He's going to come from eating the mushrooms alone," Finn grinned, and Puck laughed, knowing it was almost literally true. _We'll have a foursome tonight: Finn, Puck, Kurt and mushrooms. Yum._

Puck paused, finished buttoning up his jeans, and leaned in for one last tender kiss on his bruised lips. "You came looking for something from me," Finn murmured. "Hope you got everything you wanted."

"And more, sir," Puck said, sighing happily. "And tonight - fuck. It's going to blow my mind, isn't it, sir?"

"You can count on it," Finn said, on his way through the door.


	38. Chapter 38

Finn tried hard not to feel guilty, as he existed the boys' room, about what he'd just done. He knew it was what Puck needed, particularly today: to draw him out of himself, help get his mind off the trauma of that morning, and give him room to breathe and be whole again. He knew that, but there was still a small part of his brain that was hard to convince, that had been frankly appalled at the words coming out of his mouth, even as he'd been more turned on than he'd been in his life. _I needed it, too,_ he told himself sternly, _and that's okay; there's nothing wrong here. _Yet, somehow, he wasn't able to convince himself in the same way he could convince Puck and Kurt. His Voice just didn't work on himself.

He sighed. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be the one to be comforted, to come apart and be put back together again, stronger and better than before. He didn't really know what that would be like, or even how to go about it. _I wish I had someone else to talk to, someone who does... this... too,_ he thought again.

Finn didn't expect to see Quinn standing in the hallway when he came out, but she was waiting, leaning against the bank of lockers like she knew he'd been in there. He put on a resigned face, and got ready to listen. "Hi."

"Hi," she said, and bit her lip. She looked so lost. Finn couldn't help but feel bad for her. They were still friends, after all; they still spent a good portion of their day together, walking through the halls and sitting together in class. It was hard to break old patterns, especially when they were pretty good patterns to begin with. Finn realized with a start that they hadn't had a fight in over a week... not since they broke up, in fact. _I think that might be a record._

"Finn... can we be in love again?" Her question was small and hurting, sitting plainly in the center of her pretty face.

For a moment, he felt a flash of the anger that had overcome him last week, that had led him to expose her pregnancy to her parents without her consent. He couldn't believe she was asking such a thing of him. _Haven't you taken enough from me? _he thought, but the answer was, apparently, _yes, and there's always more, thank you. _

"You know I'm seeing someone else," he said, and she nodded, looking at the floor.

"I know. But... I want things to be like they were before, Finn." She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, leaning back on the bank of lockers. "It used to be so nice. I could always count on you. We don't have to be... _doing_ anything. I just want us to be, you know, a couple again. Things are really hard right now, with the baby, and... I miss you. I miss _us._" She looked up at him with that hopeful, pleading expression. "Don't you miss it?"

"Sometimes," he said. "I like being your friend, Quinn. I like it when we're not arguing all the time."

"Yeah." She looked up at the ceiling and carefully wiped the dark circles of mascara from under her eyes with one finger. "That's what I want. Can't we be like that?"

He came around to lean his back on the locker beside her, facing out toward the remaining students walking past them through the hallways, getting ready to go home. "Have you ever _really_ been in love?" he asked. "Like in the songs we sing in Glee? When you'd do anything to be with that person... when seeing them happy and safe is the most important thing in the world?"

She pressed her lips together, and didn't say anything for a minute. "No," she said at last. "I don't think I really believe that kind of love is real, outside of dreams." She put a hand on her belly, poking out from beneath her white sweater. "Not for me, anyway."

He hesitated, the butterflies in his stomach suddenly on overdrive. "I think I can give you what you want, Quinn, but... I have to tell you something first. I... I want us to be honest with each other, no matter what."

"You can tell me anything," she said, imploring.

He took a deep breath. "Cool. And this needs to be something you keep to yourself, for now, okay? It's not a secret I'm ready to tell anyone else, not yet. Can I count on you?"

Her eyes glittered a little at the mention of a _secret,_ but she nodded. "Of course, Finn."

"Really?" He nudged her with one elbow. "Because it's not just about us. It affects other people, too. I need to be able to trust you. You don't have the best track record when it comes to being honest with me."

"I know," she said. "I... I regret that, more than you'll ever know. I _want _you to trust me. Whatever it is, Finn, it's okay." She fiddled with her fingertips, in her lap, and gave a short, hopeless laugh. "Who would I tell, anyway?"

He reflected on this. Kurt would probably evaluate the risks and benefits in this kind of situation; Puck would follow whatever impulse occurred to him at the moment. Finn tended to go with his gut, and it was usually right. And something told him he could trust Quinn, this time. He knew she did actually care about him, and she wasn't the only one feeling lonely. He was changing, it was true - but it would be nice if a few things could stay the same.

He pulled out his phone. _Here goes,_ he thought, feeling light-headed, and pressed a few buttons. He couldn't help but smile at the picture of himself and Kurt. Quinn saw his smile. "What is it?"

"I'm just... I guess I'm pretty lucky," he said, tipping the phone toward her. "This is the kind of love I'm talking about."

He watched Quinn's eyes fall on the picture, and her entire body grew still. For several long moments, she didn't move. Then she parted her lips, slowly, but nothing came out. She swallowed. "That's Kurt," she said at last.

"Yeah," he said, and the tenderness in his voice did something that the picture alone couldn't. She looked up at him in shock.

"Finn," she hissed. "You - this isn't you. You like girls. What are you doing?"

"I'm letting you in," he said. "I'm willing to be your fake boyfriend, if that's what you want, but I'm going to insist on being your real friend. You'd better know something real about me. And this is just the beginning, Quinn." He drew her gaze away from the picture, and he did not let it go. "Do you think you can handle it?"

She looked almost scared of him for a moment, but then she blinked, her face clearing, and she regarded him with what looked like newfound respect. "Yes," she whispered. "It's all right. Thank you for being honest with me."

Finn felt a sudden surge of fondness. "I love you, Quinn," he said, and hugged her. She leaned into the hug, and when he straightened up, they stayed connected, arms around each other as they walked down the hall.

"So - at your house, on Friday..." She colored. "That was... Kurt?"

"Nope," he said, grinning. "But he knows about it, and he's fine with it."

Quinn's face ran through several emotions, including appalled, confused and impressed. "But then who...?"

"The one who took the picture." His eyebrow quirked. "You really want to know who it was?"

"Let me think about it," she said, looking dazed, and he laughed.

* * *

><p>Kurt moved slowly to collect his things after Glee was over. He watched Mr. Schue pack up his bag and give Kurt a smile on the way out the door. "You still up for performing tomorrow, Kurt?" he said.<p>

Kurt nodded. "Rachel, and Mercedes, and Finn and I - we think we've got something good." He glanced at Brad, who was watching them silently. "Mr. Schue, you're not going to make us do that song for sectionals, are you?"

"No," he said, and sighed. "No, I'm not. I'm going to have to find something else. You think this song you're working up is good enough?"

"We can't use it," Kurt said. "The artist isn't ready to release the performance rights; it's not listed in ASCAP yet. Maybe someday, but for now, it's just... for us." _For Noah._

"Well, if you think of anything else, let me know. Your instincts were right here. I wanted you to know that." Kurt looked at Mr. Schue, startled. He wasn't used to hearing compliments from his director.

"I... I'll think it over," he said.

He barely noticed Mercedes fall into step beside him. "That was cool," she said. "Singing with those deaf kids. I never thought that kids with no voices could speak so loudly, you know?"

"Mmmm," said Kurt, chewing on his lip.

"Kurt?"

And suddenly, he realized he was crying, his throat constricted into a knot of unnamed emotions, leaning on Mercedes' startled arm. She took him by both hands and dragged his limp body out of the hallway into the alcove by the choir room, and hugged him tightly. "Kurt, what happened?"

"I can't tell you," he blubbered into her shirt. "I said I wouldn't."

She let him cry for a while before digging a tissue out of her purse and pressing it into his hands. "Is this about... you know? Finn? Or Puck?"

He nodded, wiping his eyes. "Kind of. But it's also about me. You said something the other day - it's been on my mind. About living in a closet, how it wasn't me."

"It's not," she said staunchly. "Ever since I met you, you've been about expressing yourself. Why are you compromising yourself now? How could that be worth any boy, no matter how fine he is?"

Kurt closed his eyes, seeing images of Noah saying _I'm scared about my Ma,_ and Finn holding them, behind his closed lids. "I once told a lie to protect my dad," he said. "When he asked me why, I told him I - I loved him more than I loved being a star. I couldn't imagine loving anyone more than I loved my dad, at that moment. And now... I've got this. I've got something here, Mercedes. This is bigger than me, bigger than Finn or Noah. Even bigger than any two of us together." He shook his head. "I can't - I'm not doing a good job explaining here."

"I can see it on your face, Kurt," Mercedes said, and her eyes were pained. "You're conflicted. I don't think it's worth it, hon."

"No!" He grabbed at her hands, willing her to understand. "It _is _- that's what I'm saying. It is worth it. It's hard and it's lonely and it's pushing _all_ my buttons, even a couple I didn't know I _had..._ but it's worth it." He smiled and relaxed into the certainty. "It's so worth it. But you'll never know that until I start being honest with you. This awful, wonderful weekend convinced me of that."

"Honest?" Mercedes looked wary. "Just how much more _honest_ do you plan on being with me, Kurt? 'Cause I think I probably know more than just about anybody does, right?"

"You know," he said, "but you don't understand. You only see us together at school - the pretend us. You never get to see the real us." Kurt's grip stayed strong on her hands. "You haven't seen Noah making dinner, or how he and his sister get along so well, or how he lets me help when he's feeling stuck. You haven't seen Finn holding us together when we're having an anxiety attack, or how he's not afraid to show his feelings in front of everybody. You haven't seen the three of us study or played Monopoly with us or watched my father fall right into this group, like -" He choked out the rest. "- like we're a real _family."_

"Is that what you want, Kurt?" Mercedes said softly, watching his face. "This seems to have leapt right from falling in love to a bigger deal than that."

"It is a bigger deal," he agreed. "Believe me, this school's not ready for a relationship like this. I'm pretty convinced of that. But you - you accepted it, even though you don't think it's good for me, even though you barely know Finn and you kind of detest Noah. Why?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Kurt, I love you. I don't think you always know what's best for you, but I'll be damned if I'd abandon you over a poor choice in a relationship. I want you to be happy and to be yourself. That's all."

"Yes," he said. "You love me. You see me for who I really am. That's what makes it possible for you to accept this situation, without judgment - well, without _too much_ judgment, anyway." He smiled gratefully as she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Being myself doesn't have to mean shouting it to the world. It could mean telling them one person at a time, and letting them get to know us - for who we really are. Honestly, I think that's the only way people are going to _really_ accept it."

"Like: we're here, we're queer, there's three of us, get used to it... please?" she said, as the other eyebrow climbed up to join the first under her bangs. He laughed and hugged her, clutching at her familiar warmth and softness.

"I can't say it wouldn't be fantastic to walk down the hall holding hands with both of them. But we're going to need a lot of people on our side before that can happen. I don't think it's likely we'll be able to do it faster than one person at a time. And so far, there's only two of you here at school who know."

"Who's the other one?" she asked, as they walked to Mercedes' locker.

"Brad," he said, grinning.

"Brad who? ... You mean our _accompanist?"_ She looked puzzled. "Why would you tell him?"

"He saved us from certain suspension when we got caught in the janitor's closet," he said, and her eyes went wide and she clutched at his arm.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Now _I'm_ the one who's conflicted. I can't decide if I should declare that to be TMI, or pump you for details."

He bid her farewell at her locker. But even though he believed every word of what he'd said to Mercedes, Kurt's feet were heavy as he continued alone down the hallway. _Alone._ That was still how it felt. He did have allies, it was true, and he imagined they'd find others. But watching Finn walk down the hallway with Quinn tucked around his arm, he still felt so lonely, and he knew that was not likely to change any time soon, as long as they played it safe.

Rachel caught his eye, watching him watching Finn, and she gave him a little half wave of camaraderie. He waved back, knowing what they had in common was not what she thought it was, but it was common ground nevertheless. _There's no reason why that song couldn't be for her,_ he thought. _And for me, and Finn, and everyone who's ever wished they could be accepted for who they are. Which, I suspect... is everyone._


	39. Chapter 39

Puck felt the calm inside him, instilled by his connection with Finn in the boys' room, and closed his eyes, picking a meditative pattern on the guitar. He shifted on the folding chair and leaned back a little, feeling the afternoon sun on the back of his head through the window.

"I thought you'd be on your way to the hospital already," said a soft voice, and he looked up to see Kurt standing in the door to the attic room. _Their attic room_. He already thought of it that way. "Aren't you heading over?"

"Timothy said Ma's in the middle of a CT scan," he said, setting aside the guitar and stretching his limbs. "The test itself doesn't take too long, but she's got to get down to the third floor and wait for a dozen other people to be done, and -"

"Noah," Kurt said. Puck closed his mouth abruptly. Kurt walked slowly to him and held out a hand, and after a moment, Puck took it. They stood there for a while in silence. Puck watched Kurt's knee rock back and forth.

"I'm nervous," Kurt said, and Puck tilted his head back to look at him, startled.

"What? You mean about - tonight?"

Kurt nodded, looking down. The sunlight from the window lit his hair with patterns of flame and shadow, and Puck heard an echo of music in his head, a chord progression, Asus2 to A, resolving to D. He let it repeat inside him, listening to it until he was sure he wouldn't forget it. _The melody of Kurt's hair. Huh._

"You don't have anything to worry about," Puck promised, buoyed by his internal soundtrack. "I've got this covered. I'm going to take care of it."

Kurt's smile was hesitant, but seemed genuine. "I thought I was supposed to be taking care of _you,"_ he said.

"Finn did that already," Puck said. "I'm... I feel okay. Good, even. And this thing, tonight - Kurt, it's not a big deal. We've done practically everything already, right?"

"It's a big deal for _me,"_ Kurt protested. "You, and Finn - you're my first. Before Finn, I hadn't even kissed a boy - and then you -" He looked nervously into Puck's face. "Well, you know."

"What?"

Kurt's eyes flickered to Puck's lap, and Puck felt a surge of ridiculous interest. _Only Kurt could get me up again so soon after that thing with Finn, _he thought. Kurt relaxed a fraction, his pupils blown wide. "Your mouth," he said, and licked his lips.

"Yeah, and it was awesome, right?" Puck said, the sensation of his mouth on Kurt ringing loud in the cavern of his memory.

"Awesome doesn't really cover it," Kurt said, laughing.

His hand came up to Puck's head and touched him gently, the sweetest caress, and the chords played again, the sus chord acting like a subdominant, suspending the tension before leading to the dominant, and finally resolving to the tonic. _It's Kurt,_ Puck thought, amazed, and leaned his face into Kurt's soft hand. _He's the suspension. He holds me up._

"Well, then," he said, his voice thick and muffled in Kurt's palm. "Trust me. This is going to be awesome, too."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure she still wants to go out?" Carole said, stepping from the elevator and dropping Burt's hand. "Maybe she'd rather be here with her mother."<p>

"We can ask her," Burt said. "I think we can leave it up to Sarah to decide."

He scanned the hallway for room numbers. "It's this way," he pointed, and Carole followed. After fifteen years of single parenthood, she was unaccustomed to letting anyone take the lead, but she couldn't deny that it was... nice, sometimes, not to have to be in charge. _It's amazing to feel I can trust him that much,_ she thought_. _That was unexpected, to say the least.

The room was crowded: Finn and Puck stood by the head of Ruth's hospital bed, while an unfamiliar slender young man sat on the other side. A woman in scrubs held a chart and stood at the foot. Kurt was in the chair by the door, clearly uncomfortable, but Sarah was there too, and she was standing between Kurt and Ruth, providing a buffer. Ruth looked shaken and white and somehow shrunken in the tangle of sheets.

"So the abnormal results on the EEG could be anything, really," the young man by the bed was saying to the doctor, holding tight to Ruth's hand.

"The spikes in electrical activity we detected show a sudden slowing of brain waves," said the doctor. She looked at Burt and Carole in the doorway. "_More _family?" she inquired, a faint smile on her lips.

"Yes," said Puck, with an implied challenge to anyone who disagreed, and Carole watched Burt's eyes light with surprise and warmth. _Kurt's not the only one who's fallen for Puck,_ she thought to herself. _No wonder._

The doctor held out a hand, and Burt shook it. "Dr. Alexander," she said. "We were just discussing the results of Ruth's EEG."

"Do you want - that is, we can take Sarah right now, if she's ready to go," said Carole, but Sarah shook her head.

"I want to hear this," Sarah said.

Carole glanced at Ruth, who nodded wearily. "She can handle it."

Dr. Alexander watched their exchange, and continued once it seemed clear that no one was leaving. "You're right, Timothy; the spikes could be caused by any number of things."

"Like what?" Puck asked. His hands were twisting the sheet on Ruth's bed.

"Possibilities might include a brain tumor, infection, injury, stroke or seizures. We're not going to know more until we look at the CT scan. Until then, we want to keep your mother here under observation to track her brain wave patterns tonight."

"I'll be fine," Ruth said, her eyes on the young man beside her. "Like the doctor said, they just want to watch me."

"I'll stay tonight," said the young man - Timothy. _Puck's brother,_ Carole realized with a shock. _I barely recognize him. _

Burt cleared his throat. "We were planning on taking Sarah out for her birthday," he said. Carole sighed as she watched the slow smile bloom on Finn's face, and he shot her an inquisitive look. She glared back at him. _None of your business,_ the look said. "But Sarah, it's up to you. If you want to stay here with -"

"No," Sarah and Ruth said simultaneously. "Sarah, you go," said Ruth, and Sarah nodded.

"Do you want us to come by to take a shift tonight?" Finn said to Timothy, but the young man shook his head.

"I'll text you if anything happens, but you guys have school tomorrow. We'll just hang out and watch a movie, right, Ma?"

Dr. Alexander glanced around the room at the assemblage. "You've got a lot of people who care about you, Ruth."

Ruth laughed. "I can see why you'd think that," she said, her voice surprisingly good-humored, and Carole found herself grinning.

"Timmy - last time I saw you, you were tutoring Finn in science," she said to Timothy. "How've you been?"

"Up and down," he said, smiling back. "I remember you, Mrs. Hudson. You always had the best snacks at your house."

"Carole," Ruth said, "you're very kind to think of Sarah on her birthday."

Carole decided not to mention it had been Finn's idea, especially considering the adoring way Sarah looked at Finn when she thought he wasn't looking. "You up for pizza and mini-golf, Sarah," she asked, "or is it a dinner-and-a-movie night?"

"Mini golf," she said, then added, "please."

"You'd better watch out," Burt said, wagging a finger at her. "I'll have you know I was the McKinley High School mini golf champion of 1985."

Sarah's giggle was sweet and soothing to Carole, who was relieved to see the lack of tension between Burt and Sarah. "We'll have a sleepover at Burt's house afterwards. Girls only," she added firmly, and Burt bit back a laugh.

"I'll stay upstairs," he promised, "and you girls can hang out on the couch in the basement and... and do your nails, or braid your hair, or whatever it is girls do at sleepovers."

"Jeez, we're girls, not Barbie dolls, Mr. Hummel," Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

Carole nearly lost it when Kurt stood up and murmured to his father, too quietly for anyone else to hear, "Do I need to ask you guys to keep the door open?"

Burt's ears turned crimson, but he just gritted his teeth and replied, "Be home by 11, okay, Kurt?"

"Okay, Dad," Kurt said, relenting, and hugged Sarah tight before she followed Burt and Carole out the door.

"What are the boys doing tonight?" Burt asked, not meeting Carole's eyes, his face still red.

"They're on a date," Carole said, grinning.

"Like you guys," said Sarah, moving to walk on the other side of Carole and giving her a little nudge toward Burt. "Don't mind me. I can be your cover. I won't tell."

Burt gave Carole an outraged look, but didn't argue, not even when she took his hand as they waited for the elevator to take them away.


	40. Chapter 40

_(Author's note: I want to thank all of you for your fantastic support through this story. There are still several more scenes, but it's coming down to the end. It's been a tremendous experience. All your comments mean so much to me, and your love for my boys and these characters, particularly Sarah, has been overwhelming. I feel so, so lucky. Now, enjoy their first time. -amy)_

* * *

><p>The front door had barely latched shut behind them before Finn turned to Kurt. "Go shower," he said, taking Kurt's coat, and it wasn't a request. Kurt moved quickly to comply, leaving Puck to set down his guitar and hang up his coat himself.<p>

"Finn," said Puck.

"Yeah?"

"Kurt's nervous about this. I - well." He looked a little nervous himself, running a hand over his mohawk. "I want it to be good for him. Great, even."

"It will be, man," said Finn. "You're going to make it great. I'm sure of it."

Finn took Puck's shirt by its hem and hauled it over his head, quickly followed by his own shirt, and took him by the hand to his father's recliner. On the table beside it rested the urn that contained his father's ashes, along with the only photograph they had of him and his father together. He sat in the chair, pulled Puck down on his lap, and held him, feeling Puck's bare skin against his warm chest. Puck's arms went around him, giving mutual comfort.

With a sudden rush, he remembered doing this with Puck, for the very first time, in this very house, just weeks ago. _I really had no idea what I was doing, then,_ he thought, amused at himself, and where he'd taken himself and his boys since then. _But things haven't really changed that much._

"Just come back to love," said Finn. "Remember how you love him, and how he loves you." He took a deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of Puck's body against his. "And... call him baby."

"Me?" Puck jerked his head back and stared at Finn in shock. "I - I don't call him that."

"You will tonight," said Finn. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Puck breathed. "You don't think he'll mind?"

"No," Finn said, and he was sure. "He won't."

They took a few more moments together, just the two of them, and it was sharply sweet to Finn, like the taste of Puck's key lime pie. "You pretty sure you still want this with me?" Finn asked softly, trying not to sound uncertain.

Puck let out a startled, rueful snort. "Only all the time," he said. "It's - it's like a drug. I fucking crave it, man. It makes me a better person, I know it, but it's hard to believe it's good for me, because it feels so fucking _good._"

"I know exactly what you mean," said Finn, closing his eyes, breathing his relief. "I need it, too, you know."

"I know," said Puck. "It wouldn't work, if you didn't."

"I guess not," Finn said.

"You guess?" Puck's face was close to Finn's, and he shivered at the supple curve of Puck's lip as he smiled. "You're the one who's always sure about everything, man."

"I just - wanted to be sure," Finn explained. "That you really want it. I don't _think_ I'd want to do it if you didn't."

"Well, I do want it," said Puck. He smiled, his killer smile, the one that was a little shy and a little sexy and had always made Finn melt a little inside when he saw it. "I do. So just forget it, okay? You're kind of freaking me out."

"Sorry," whispered Finn, and held him tighter.

Then he stood up, and together they walked upstairs, Puck carrying his guitar case. Finn thought it was strange, being in the house alone at night, with no adults around. It made him feel grown up, even more than the thing they were about to do.

Kurt came out of the bathroom in a cloud of sweet-smelling steam, looking adorable in Finn's robe. "Come on," Finn said, and they went into the guest bedroom together. He sat on the bed, cross-legged, and Puck and Kurt joined him.

"We have a decision to make, before we do anything tonight," said Finn. "I can't make it by myself. I need to know what you each want, and I want you both to be honest, okay?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused, and glanced at each other, grinning. Finn closed his eyes a moment, caught by an intense blast of sensation at the words, spoken simultaneously by his two boys. _God._ He took a breath and went on.

"So far, the things we've done together, we haven't used condoms. Kurt, you and I decided a while ago that we wouldn't, together, and it didn't matter because we'd never been with anyone else. Puck, you've been tested and you're pretty sure you're clean. Tonight, and from now on, I'm suggesting we make it official: that we don't use them with each other, except - what did you say about that, Kurt? Except if we want to try them, in the interests of curiosity." He smiled faintly at Kurt. "How does that sound?"

"Yeah," said Puck. "I'm all about that." Kurt nodded, and Finn relaxed a fraction.

"Okay. The other part of that, then, is - this thing we have, the three of us. Our relationship. We need to protect that, keep it safe, in all ways, our hearts, and our bodies, right? So..." He took another breath. "Can we agree that we'll only do - this, without condoms - with each other?"

Kurt looked puzzled. "Finn... are you suggesting that any of us might be planning to have sex with someone else? I really don't see myself doing that, or anything else, with anyone but you two."

"I feel that way, too," said Finn. "But it's possible, isn't it? We might someday want... that. Maybe one of us could fall in love with someone else. Or Puck, you might want to visit Nicole and Daphne and... Alex."

"Dude, I told you, I'm with you guys now," said Puck, but Finn shook his head.

"No," he said, "I got that. But you still love them. You can't deny it's _possible_ that someday you might want to visit them, and do stuff with them. All I'm saying here is, if that ever happens, that you keep it safe."

Puck looked at Finn, his brow knitted in consternation, but at last he nodded. "Okay," he said. "That's fine. I can agree to that. But... Finn, what _do_ you think about that? I mean, having sex with other people. You were pretty mad about me and Quinn doing that."

"I've thought about that," said Finn. "I think I was only really mad that you did it without asking. But - it didn't really make me mad that you did it."

Puck glanced at Kurt, and Kurt said, "Tell him, sweetheart."

"What?" said Finn.

"Um." Puck scratched his neck. "I, um. When Quinn and I did it. You were... you were there. In the room."

Finn couldn't wrap his brain around that for a moment, but then he realized what Puck was talking about. "You mean - at that party? When you took me upstairs and and put me to bed? _That's_ when it happened?"

"Yeah," Puck said, groaning. "And, dude - I was totally fantasizing about you the whole time. You kept making these noises, and _fuck. _It made me so hot."

"Noah," Kurt said, softly.

"Um," Puck said, looking down. "I'm sorry, Finn - sir. I'm sorry I did that."

"Apology accepted," Finn said, like some formal agreement had been reached, and Puck actually looked relieved. "But, you've got to realize it never bothered me before when you took a girl from me. It was never a problem. I wasn't jealous about that."

"Not even with Rachel?" Puck said, his eyebrow going up.

"No, man," he said. "I wasn't. I just didn't want you singing to her."

"Really?" Puck said, grinning. "You only want me to sing to you guys?"

"Well, it's kind of the same question, isn't it?" Finn said. _"No, _I'm not trying to keep you from singing to anybody, or doing anything else. I just want to keep us safe. That's kind of my job, right?"

Kurt shifted, leaning forward on one hand, feet tucked under Finn's robe. His hair was still wet and stuck up a little in the front, and Finn reached out a hand to smooth it down. "I'm not really sure how I feel about you guys... sharing this with anyone else," said Kurt, uncomfortably, "no matter how safe you are about it."

"Okay," said Finn. "I got that. I'm not planning on it, either. But things sometimes happen that we don't plan for, and I want this to be clear. So - I'm not telling, but I'm asking. Can we all agree to this?"

"Yeah," said Puck, and he held out a hand to Kurt, who took it. "I can do that. Kurt?"

Kurt still looked uncertain, but he said, "Yes, of course. No sex without barriers with other people. No - fluid exchange?"

"Nice," Puck said, approvingly, and Kurt flushed.

"Maybe someday we'd want to invite someone to join us," Finn said, and they both stared at him. "I'm just saying we might," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm not saying we're going to. But we might want to someday."

There was a silence. "Dude," said Puck. "That would be pretty hot." No one responded to that. "This is how Alex and Nicole and Daph do it," he added. "Condoms for everything with everyone else, outside the family."

"The... family?" said Kurt. He put a hand to his lips, like he was preventing something from escaping.

"Yeah," said Puck. He looked at both of them. "You're my family."

"Noah," Kurt said, blinking rapidly.

"Well, you are," he said, with some heat. "This thing with my Ma has really made me think about it. And you're my family, you and Kurt and Carole and Burt, and Ma and Sarah. Even fucking Timothy." He paused, then added, "And the baby."

"The - baby?" Kurt said, startled. Finn closed his eyes.

"Puck," he said. "We're not really going to go there tonight, are we?"

"She's..." Puck said, and he shook his head. "Forget it."

Finn moved in, watching him try to withdraw, and caught him before he could do it. "We can talk about it later," he said, right against Puck's face. "We can. It's okay. We need to do that. Later. We have something else to take care of right now."

"Yes, sir," Puck said, eyes wide and mouth parted, and Finn kissed him then, hard, making him feel it. He made a noise into Finn's mouth, and Kurt said, "Oh, god."

Finn didn't stop kissing Puck until he felt him loosen, become pliable under his hands, and his breath was coming quickly when he pulled away. "Kurt," he said, and Kurt was right there, kneeling over his legs, kissing him, sweet and hot.

"Fuck," Puck moaned. Finn could feel his eyes on them, watching, drawn in, and he could feel the energy beginning to roll between them all, a wave, cresting and dipping down, but always moving, always shifting. He felt it move, rode it, let it carry him forward.

"Kurt, he said, "take off your robe and lay down on the bed."

Kurt took a moment to respond, but then he silently stood and propped the pillows against the wall, and dropped the robe to the floor. Finn reached out for Puck's hand and squeezed it, watching Kurt, hard and and still damp from the shower, lay back slowly, reclining on the pillows. His breath was slow and even, his skin white and perfect, and Finn thought he'd never seen anything quite as beautiful.

"Okay," Kurt said, calmly. "I'm ready."

"Puck," he said. "Take off your clothes for him. Let him see you."

"Yes, sir," he whispered, standing. Their shirts had already been abandoned downstairs, and Puck ran shameless hands over his own chest, his neck, his abdomen, and lower. Kurt bit his lip as Puck unzipped the fly on his jeans, and turned to face away from Kurt while he slid his jeans over his hips and down his legs, leaning into the bend. Finn heard Kurt's breath catch, and he felt a little faint himself, fighting an urge to stroke that perfect ass.

"Tell him what you think, Kurt," he directed.

"I'm - you're gorgeous," came the hesitant response.

For a moment, it was almost too much for Finn: the exquisite nature of the moment, Kurt and Puck together, their unexpected connection, the way they felt for one another, and the overwhelming love he felt for each of them, so different and yet so incredibly, perfectly necessary. He thought he might pass out or start to cry, or possibly both. But he modulated his breath, relaxed tight muscles, and eventually it became possible to move on. They were so wrapped up in other another, they hadn't even noticed, and he was glad.

"Go on," he urged. "Puck - kiss him. Let him feel you. Remember what I said."

Puck climbed onto the bed, reaching from the foot to touch Kurt's leg, making his way up, running his fingers along Kurt's creamy skin, his mouth hungry on his. Kurt's legs spread for him, accepting him into his lap. "Kurt," he said, with urgency, "I want you so bad, baby."

The word hit Kurt, and he recoiled, watching Finn's face, and seeing only love and encouragement, he parted his lips. "Am I your baby, Noah?"

"Yeah," Noah said, so tenderly, kissing Kurt's knee, his leg, the curve between his thigh and his ass. "Tonight, you are. You're my baby too. Let me love you, baby."

"Yes," Kurt whispered, incredulous and shaking, and he relaxed back on the pillows. "Yes, yes, Noah, yes."

Puck needed no direction now, and Finn absently stripped off his clothing and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He couldn't take his eyes off the striking contrast of them, Puck's dark, golden head between Kurt's ivory thighs. He heard Kurt whispering encouragement, and he lay down beside them, not touching yet, but close enough for them to feel the heat of his skin.

"Oh my god," Kurt said, all of a sudden, and Finn smiled. He laid his head on the pillow beside Kurt, enjoying watching the pleasure on his face, the stunned anticipation he was clearly feeling under the thrilling assault of Puck's tongue.

"Finn, how did this happen?" Kurt said, pieces of his sentence coming out between the tears.

"How did what happen, baby?" he asked.

"How did I fall in love... with _both_ of you... like _this?_"

"I don't know," he said. "I have no answer for that. Maybe we belong together."

"Well, duh," came the low voice from between Kurt's legs, and a laugh tumbled out of Finn, sly and delighted. Kurt just threw back his head with a groan, his back arching, and Finn watched the sharp profile of his face, his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and gasped. Finn couldn't help it; he brought one hand up to stroke the line from Kurt's throat past his navel, down to his twitching cock, which until now had been wholly ignored.

"Finn," Kurt said, anguished, "if you touch me, I'm finished."

"All right," he said, moving his hand back to safer territory, "all right, it's okay." Instead, he let his hand revel in the silky smoothness of Kurt's skin, his slender arms, the compact tightness of the muscles of his belly, and listened to the breath whistle through him like the wind in a cave.

"God, Noah," Kurt said, suddenly loud, demanding. He thrashed, twisting, and Finn wondered if it was possible for him to come just by watching Kurt like this. He wondered, but was not willing to make tonight an experiment.

"Are you ready for more?" he asked, as calmly as he could muster.

"Yes, _please_, yes," Kurt said, fumbling his hand for Finn's. Finn brought his hand next to Kurt's and let him clutch him as hard as he needed. With his other hand, he snapped open the cap of the lube and passed it down to Puck, who was reluctantly coming up for air.

"Very wet is better than not wet enough," said Puck, using too much and wiping the excess on the bed. Finn huffed annoyance, but figured it was a small price to pay for a happy Kurt. They could always change the sheets.

"Except, apparently, when it comes to me," Finn said. He sat up to watch Puck prepare Kurt's pink, clenching opening. He remembered Puck's dry fingers in him this afternoon at school, and he allowed himself a brief indulgence, closing his eyes and stroking his own cock, slow, languid, nothing that would actually get him off, but that felt incredible against the backdrop of gentle sighs and the slide of wet skin.

But when he opened his eyes agin, he was startled to see two pairs of eyes, riveted to his face, watching with hungry expressions of appreciation. He laughed, a little embarrassed. "It's not really about me," he said, then let Kurt haul him over for a kiss.

"What, are you kidding?" Puck said, his hand briefly roving over Finn's legs. "It's the Finn show, man. It's _all_ about you."

He had no answer for that, either. It was enough to just sit in silence and witness Puck, kneeling between Kurt's legs, coiled and tight, fingers sliding inside Kurt, first one, then two, making him ready. Every time a finger disappeared inside Kurt's body, he felt it as though it were his own, and after the first few thrusts he stopped bothering to stifle his groans.

"You feel so good, Noah," Kurt sighed, leaning into his fingers, his hips rolling and bucking of their own accord.

"Yeah?" Puck said, grinning. "What did I tell you?" He crooked his fingers and they were rewarded with the lowest sound Finn had ever heard come out of Kurt's mouth.

"It's about to get better, baby," Finn said, and Puck did it again, basking in that thrilling sound. He looked at Puck, whose hands were busy but who made a clear gesture with his head toward Kurt's belly: _Go on, do it. _And although the angle was awkward, he was happy to oblige, to put his mouth on Kurt's cock, and know the cries that exploded from his lips were for him.

"Oh, Finn," Kurt wailed, "Noah, _god,_ it's so good -"

"That's it, baby," Puck said, gently withdrawing his fingers, letting Finn center his mouth on Kurt's hips. Finn was surprised and gratified to feel Puck's touch on his head and neck, helping him get the angle right, and suddenly it was so much easier to let Kurt thrust up into his mouth without gagging.

He listened to the sounds coming from Kurt, the beautiful music of Kurt's mind, overflowing and free: "Feels so good, so good, so amazing - please, I'm ready, Noah, please, please..." Just as the sounds started to edge toward desperate, Finn pulled away, ignoring Kurt's protest.

Puck returned to the space between Kurt's legs, spreading them, nestling up against his thighs, and found the slippery spot with the head of his cock. "Oh, baby," Puck murmured, and his breath came faster as he slid inside, an inch at a time. "Is it okay?"

"_Yes,_ yes, it's so good," Kurt repeated brokenly, which seemed to be just about all he could say. That sounded like success to Finn, because now Puck was _inside_ Kurt, was buried deep inside him, and Kurt's words were completely obliterated by the movement of Puck's hips against his tight hole.

"How does it feel?" Finn dared to ask Puck, whose eyes were dark and startled, and who seemed to be having trouble maintaining the slow pace they'd been using up until now.

"Hot," Puck said, suddenly anxious. "So hot, and tight, Finn, holy fuck - I don't think I can last."

"It's okay," Finn assured him. He took Kurt's cock, still moist from Finn's mouth, in his hand and stroked him, watching Kurt's face change from needy to overwhelmed. "You're giving him just what he needs. Don't worry about anything else."

Finn kept up his hand's movement as Puck took Kurt's hips in both hands, lifting him up a little, finding that angle, and when Kurt cried out, he knew Puck would keep him there, holding him in just the right place, until he came. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the idea appeared that someday soon, _he_ would be the one held up by Puck's strong hands, to feel Puck's cock hitting that sweet spot inside him. He knew he wanted that, wanted it a lot - but for now, _this_ was what he wanted, to watch his boys fill and be filled with mutual satisfaction. He never knew such a thing could make him so content, so _happy._

"You guys are incredible," Finn said, brimming with the sensation. He felt Kurt seeking more with his hips, and he matched his hand's pace to Kurt's movements, stroking faster, and knew Kurt was was close.

"Oh, Kurt," Puck said, again and again, as his thrusts sped up, "baby, Kurt, baby... oh, god, I'm gonna come, coming inside you..."

Finn had no idea what those words would do to Kurt, but he just came apart under Finn's stroking hand, shouting through his completion, while Puck closed his eyes and lost himself in the new sensation. Finn dizzily imagined Kurt clenching around him, and he echoed Kurt's words: "So good, so good."

He placed a hand on Puck's back. "Such a good boy," Finn said into his ear, finally letting Puck put down the responsibility he'd placed upon him, letting him return to himself at last. Puck let out a long, slow sigh, and his eyes stayed closed. He slipped free from Kurt's body.

Kurt looked completely satisfied, his lips curved in a smile, his eyes halfway closed. He took several long, deep breaths. "God, Noah," said Kurt, "you were - amazing. Incredible. Okay, _awesome."_ He laughed, rich and decadent, as he stretched, and opened up his arms. Puck came down into them, throwing a leg over Kurt's, lying pliant and submissive on top of him.

Finn didn't let him pause long. He knelt between Puck's relaxed knees, propping him open, and probed with a wet finger. Puck made a surprised gasp. "Finn?"

"Try again," said Finn, spreading the lube evenly.

Puck moaned as Finn penetrated him with one slick finger. "S-sir," he stammered.

Finn smiled. "That's it." He put a second finger inside and Puck moaned again. You've been a very good boy," he said. "You did everything right. Now it's time to let me take what I need from you."

"_Yes_, sir," Puck groaned, his hips lifting up off the bed, thrusting back into Finn's fingers. Kurt met his eyes over Puck's prone form, and raised an eyebrow.

"He likes that idea," Kurt murmured. "Already."

_I knew what he needed,_ thought Finn, somewhat smugly. _He loved doing Kurt like that, but it's not what he really needed. _He slid his fingers out, and Puck waited, now tense and still, lying against Kurt.

"You know what I'm going to do?"

"Yes, sir," Puck said, sighing, shifting his hips.

"Tell me. Come on - say it."

"You're... you're going to fuck me."

"That's right," Finn said, coating his cock with lube with a few quick strokes. "Do you want that?"

"God," Puck said, his voice almost whining. Finn watched as the cheeks of his ass clenched together, and Kurt made contented noises as Puck ground against him.

"I want to hear you say it," he said, kindly. "We can always wait and do it another time-?"

"Are you going to make me beg, sir?" Puck protested. "_Yes,_ I want it. Jesus fucking Christ."

Finn laid one swift, sharp swat on his bottom. "Ow!" Puck exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"You'll speak respectfully to me," said Finn, tugging Puck's hips up off Kurt, propping him onto his knees. Puck's cock was already half-hard, and twitched again as Finn ran a hand between his legs. "I may very well make you beg, but you can choose to do it, yourself, too. You'll beg when you need something, when you crave it, when you can't live without it."

"Yes, sir," said Puck, subdued.

"Now, I told you last time, you needed to ask when you want something. Nicely."

Puck's head hung low, almost onto Kurt's chest. "Yes, sir," he said again, and he was the very picture of submission, there on his knees, breathing hard. "Please, sir... I need you to fuck me. _Please."_

"That's my good boy," said Finn, smiling, flushing with the pleasure of hearing the words spoken aloud. He pressed the red, round head of his cock against Puck's slick opening, and found himself gasping at the tightness, the heat, inside him. Puck grunted a little as Finn slipped deeper, then still deeper.

"Wait," Puck said abruptly, sounding panicked. "Wait - please, sir." He caught his breath.

Finn stilled his forward movement, but did not pull away, and issued one short command: "_Let go."_

He felt Puck's tense muscles release, and Kurt caught him as he slumped forward. "Do you have him?" Finn asked, and Kurt nodded.

This time when he pushed, tentatively, there was almost no resistance. Puck was still tight and hot, but it was bearable, and he scarcely made a noise as Finn worked his way inside, a tiny bit at a time, until at last, at last, he was fully sheathed in Puck's skin. "Puck," he said, leaning in, stroking his heaving shoulders, "I don't want this to hurt. Are you all right?"

Puck mumbled something incoherent into Kurt's chest. "I didn't hear that, sweetheart," Kurt said. "Say again?"

"Move, please, sir," he said again, through gritted teeth.

Finn closed his eyes, in relief as much as anything. "Move, huh?" he said, giving his hips an experimental - _oh._ His head swam.

"God," he blurted. "Puck. God, you feel -"

"_Move,"_ Puck growled, pulled forward, and _shoved_ back on Finn's cock, and Finn let out a strange, mewling noise. Before he could recover, Puck was doing it again, and again, and he stiffened and Kurt said, "Whoa, sweetheart," in disbelief as Puck shuddered and came all over Kurt's chest.

"Never felt like - like this," Finn babbled, taking over the thrusting, because Puck was practically comatose on top of Kurt, a sticky, whimpering mass of limbs, but he was still saying _Yes, please, sir_ over and over again, in a kind of mantra.

Finn felt the overwhelming sensations of each thrust in every pore, drenched by desire and stimulation. It was impossible to for Finn to tell how long it took before he was coming, but by that point it almost didn't matter, because the orgasm itself was only marginally more astonishing than the feelings he'd been having all along.

"Puck," he heard himself say, riding the wave, leaning into Puck's body. He felt splashes on his hands, and he put his hand to his face to realize he was crying. "Puck?"

"I'm here," he heard Puck say, through the mess of tears and sweat and come. "I'm still here. God. It's like you're fucking _made_ for me, man. Kurt, are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Kurt, laughing, extracting himself from under Puck. "That was unbelievable. I think there's definitely a market for porn shot from this angle."

"Are _you_ okay?" Finn said to Puck, sniffling and wiping his eyes as best he could. His knees felt like they would give way any second, so he took a moment to - "Ahhh," he sighed, pulling out of Puck, and Puck shuddered again, moaning. "Seriously?" he said, incredulous.

"Still," said Puck, shaking his head, twitching. "I think I came, like, four times. _After_ the time with Kurt." He collapsed on the bed next to Kurt, on his side. "Nobody touches my ass for a whole day, got it?" he grumbled, warding away any nearby hands. "I think I need an ass cast. And you even _think_ about spanking me, Finn, and I swear I will never fucking cook for you again."

"Okay," Finn said, meekly. "I won't." He let Kurt pull him down on the bed, which was unavoidably covered with body fluids, into the middle of the morass between himself and Puck.

"You all right?" Kurt asked, and for a minute Finn felt irritated, wondering why he would ask that, but then he realized he was still crying. He brushed away the tears impatiently and smiled back at Kurt.

"I feel - new," he said, kissing him. "Brand new. And amazing. Also really gross. I need a shower."

"Yes, please," said Kurt, nodding emphatically, looking down at himself, coated with three boys' assorted fluids.

They all three moved like creaky old men for a few minutes, getting their sea legs back, and stumbling to the bathroom, laughing and holding on to walls and furniture along the way. "Maybe a bath would be better," said Puck. "I seriously don't know if I can stand up that long." But they managed in the shower, and Finn even wrestled the sheets off the bed and put on some clean ones. By the time they were clean and mostly dry and back on the bed, it was after 8 pm.

"Dinner?" Finn said, and Puck groaned again. "Take-out?" he tried again.

"No, I'll do it," Puck said, standing up and staggering a little as he picked up his shorts. "The steak's all chopped; it'll take about a half hour. If you fall asleep, though, I'm going to eat it all."

"Do you think it ever gets better than this?" Kurt asked, climbing into Finn's lap and wrapping his arms around himself like a blanket. Finn loved it when Kurt did that. He kissed Kurt on the top of his head.

"I think any better, and I may have a heart attack," Finn said, only half-kidding.


	41. Chapter 41

"Mrs. Hudson?" Sarah's face peeked out from the sleeping bag.

Carole stretched out her legs and propped them on the heavy square coffee table. "Sarah, it's late," she said gently. "You should be asleep."

"I've never slept very well," said Sarah. The admission, spoken so plainly, was painful for Carole to hear. "I usually wake up in the middle of the night."

Carole moved so she could put her hand on Sarah's hair. "What do you do then?"

"Noah and I talk, usually," she said. "Sometimes I read, or listen to music. Or even do my homework. It's not so bad. I'm used to it."

"Did you have fun tonight?" Carole asked. She stroked a few strands of hair back from Sarah's face, went on stroking lightly.

"It was awesome," Sarah said, with satisfaction. "Burt was so funny. I think he really expected to be good at mini-golf."

"He didn't mind losing to you, though," Carole said, smiling. "It was your birthday, after all."

They'd finished the kettle corn long before, and the empty bowl lay on the table, on top of the empty pizza box and the pile of DVDs. They'd only made it through two of them before they'd crashed out on the couch. Carole picked up the remote control and turned off the blue screen on the television, and the room was abruptly darker.

"I hope Ma's getting some sleep," she said, sounding far older than eleven. "She doesn't sleep well either, and I'm sure that hospital bed is giving her fits. She's going to really piss off her night nurse."

"Timothy's with her," Carole said. "It was so nice to see him again. I think it's been... good grief, probably more than five years. How long has it been since you saw him?"

"Oh, we get together for breakfast about once a month," she said. "He gives me gossip about Mama Gaga, and I tell him about Ma and Noah. And..." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Don't tell Noah," she begged. "But he talks to Dad. He lives in Columbus and sometimes he sends us a letter. I've never given them to Noah or Ma, though. I don't think they'd want to know he's still in touch with me or Timothy."

"You might be right about that," Carole said.

They heard noises in the garage, and the door opened and shut quietly. "Kurt?" Sarah said, sitting up. Kurt moved into the circle of light cast by the lamp beside the couch. He set his bag down and sat, a little stiffly, on the cushion next to her.

"Hey, Sarah," he said, smiling. "How was your birthday?"

"I won," she replied, and Carole had the feeling she wasn't just talking about mini-golf. Kurt wrapped an arm around her and held her tight. Something constricted in Carole's chest at the sight of the two of them together.

"How did things go with you guys tonight?" she asked.

"It was - " Kurt didn't finish his sentence, but his face told the real story. He smiled and looked at the floor. "Thanks so much, Carole, for the use of your home, and on a school night."

"My pleasure, Kurt," she said. "You guys have had a lot of stress lately. You deserve a little time to yourselves."

"I can't tell you how lucky I feel that you understand that," he said. Then he stifled a yawn behind his hand. "Sorry. I really need to get to bed."

"Sarah and I are going to head back to my house," she said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the head. He smiled at her, surprised, but didn't object.

Sarah giggled as he shut his door behind him. "Well, _they_ sure had a good time tonight," she said, struggling out of the sleeping bag.

"What makes you say that?" Carole asked, picking up bits of kettle corn off the floor.

"Didn't you see the way he was walking?" Sarah snorted. "I bet Noah's walking that same way tomorrow, too."

"Oh - oh, my god," Carole gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She could feel her cheeks flaming. "Sarah, how do you know anything about... _that?"_

"Mrs. Hudson," said Sarah, and her voice was amused, but also a little sad. "I'm not sure you really want an answer to that question."

Carole slipped an arm around the girl's shoulders and held on. She couldn't remember a time when Finn had been this small. "Finn," she said, suddenly, and her eyes prickled with tears.

"He's kind of their protector, you know," Sarah said, yawning. "He holds them up, keeps them together. They really depend on him. He's good at it, too. I guess... you taught him pretty well."

"I guess," Carole said, amazed. "I guess I did."

"I'm going to go fall asleep in the car and wait for you," Sarah said. "Don't wake me up when we get to your house, okay?"

"Wait for what?" she asked, but Sarah just waved and went out the garage door.

Carole climbed the stairs and found Burt sitting in the family room, asleep in his recliner. She almost didn't wake him, but figured he'd be uncomfortable in the morning. _Kurt might be uncomfortable, too_, she thought, with an embarrassed wince. _Yes, Sarah had been right about how he was walking. And... Finn?_

"Burt," she whispered, taking off his baseball cap and setting it on the coffee table. He stirred. "It's time for bed," she said, a little louder.

"I'm coming, Katherine," he said, sleepily, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest. He stretched, looking for all the world like a small boy in his unselfconscious movement, and opened his eyes. "Carole," he said, and smiled.

"Yes, it's me," she said, and touched his cheek. He sighed and leaned into it a little. "I'm taking Sarah home. We're heading out now."

"I hope she had a good time tonight," he said, and yawned, sitting up in his chair. She sat on the arm of the chair. "She swings a mean putter."

"She said it was great," Carole said. "I... had a great time, too."

"Yeah?" Burt said. He was more awake now, and he put a hand on her knee. "I still owe you a real date. I'd like a chance to make it up to you."

"Sure," she whispered. "Let's get the kiss out of the way now, though." She leaned down, feeling his soft lips on hers, and wondering how she'd gone fifteen years without this.

"Burt," she said. "I think..."

"What is it?" he said, running a hand through her hair.

"I think our sons might have... done something tonight. Something... significant."

He paused, then pulled back, searching her face, disbelieving. "What makes you think that?" he said suspiciously. "Did Kurt say something?"

"No," she said, blushing. "It was... the way he was walking. Kind of... gingerly. Don't be upset," she added at his expression. "He seemed very happy. But I thought you might want to talk with him tomorrow."

"Are you... going to talk to Finn?" he asked, and when she nodded, he sighed. "Well, I guess I'll have to, then. Jesus, Carole. I haven't even had the safe sex talk with him."

"I'm thinking things aren't so different as they are for us," Carole said, amused.

"Yeah, I guess not," he said. He raised an eyebrow. "Are _we_ gonna have that talk?"

"Do - do you want to?" she said, somewhat flustered.

"I'm a guy, Carole," he said. "I think you can assume I want to. As in, tomorrow, immediately, right now?" She couldn't help laughing, and he grinned. "I'm also an adult, meaning I can exert some self-control over my actions. But yeah, we should probably have that talk at some point."

"That sounds... good," Carole said. She kissed him again, lingering a moment, and they exchanged smiles. "Good night, Burt."

"Good night, Carole," he said softly. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

><p>The attic room was cold in the morning, before the building heaters or the day's sun had had a chance to warm it. Kurt shivered as he sorted through stacks of music, making piles as he went. "No. No, definitely not. Hmm... maybe." He set one copy aside.<p>

"What are you looking for?" He looked up, surprised, to see Brad standing in the doorway, holding a wheeled dolly. "I didn't expect you to be here so early. I thought I'd load a few boxes and take them down before we rehearse your number."

"Mr. Schue said... he wants a different song. A new song." Kurt took down another box of music and began riffling through it. "I found a couple of possibilities, but none of them are fantastic." He showed Brad his small stack of maybes, and Brad glanced through them, nodding. "But I thought, if I could bring him one that's good, he might... we could..." He sighed.

Brad nodded again, thoughtfully. "Will has a strong sense of responsibility to you kids, you know," he said. "I think he holds the opinion that he needs to be the one to discover, organize, teach and choreograph every bit of your success in Glee. It's as much about him as it is about making you guys great."

"He seems to listen to Rachel and Finn," Kurt observed bitterly, closing the box and starting on another one, "and no one else."

"It's because they remind him of him," Brad said. "He says it all the time. Finn - well, maybe if he knew more about Finn, he wouldn't think he was so much like him."

"You mean because he's gay," Kurt said, "or because he's in this relationship?"

"Triad," said Brad.

"Triad," repeated Kurt, softly, and nodded. "Yes. Our... triad. That's not much like Mr. Schue."

"True, but that's not what I meant," Brad said. "I was thinking more of the kind of person Will was when _he _was in school. He - well, he wasn't like you. He wasn't particularly smart academically, and he didn't have much in the way of self-esteem or social awareness."

"You think _I_ have those things?" Kurt wrinkled his brow in disbelief, but Brad nodded.

"You do," he said. "Even if most of the rest of the school won't accept you for who you are. I think Will sees Rachel's awkwardness and Finn's difficulty with school and wants to help, because he was there once himself. You - you're doing fine without his help." Brad shrugged. "Maybe he's got a little misplaced envy for your talent."

"Mr. Schue's _incredibly_ talented," Kurt protested. "He's a total triple threat. Plus he's gorgeous - I mean." He blushed. "I don't mean it like that. I mean he's good looking enough to make it in professional theater."

"The truth is, guys like him are a dime a dozen in theater, and he knows it." Brad helped Kurt get another box off a taller shelf. His eyes met Kurt's, and they were frank and warm. "What you've got is unique, Kurt. Somebody's going to discover you and you're going to be a star."

"Really?" Kurt said, somewhat breathlessly.

"There's no question in my mind." Brad grinned. "Now that doesn't mean you get to be cocky about it, okay? You still have to work your butt off to get anywhere in theater. It has to be your whole life. Sometimes that's not worth it. Why do you think Will's still in _Lima?_" He smiled ruefully. "Cause it ain't for the gourmet restaurants."

"He got married and settled down," Kurt said. "That was more important to him than fame and success?"

"That was more important to him than struggling every day to make it, when he wasn't even sure he _could,"_ Brad said. "Believe me, it sucks to be a medium-sized fish in a big ocean. Sometimes it's just easier to go back to the small pond and forget about the ocean." He loaded two boxes onto the dolly.

Kurt gave him a small smile. "You?"

"Yeah, except pianists are more like a penny a dozen," Brad said, and Kurt could only hear a tiny fraction of bitterness in his voice. "Most of the time I'm pretty happy with the way things turned out. I have a job; I still get to play, every day. And I get to spend time with my wives and kids. Not too many failed musicians get all that."

"Failed, huh?" Kurt shook his head. "Lucky for me, I guess. Lucky for all of us Glee kids."

Brad ducked his head over the pile of boxes, but Kurt could hear the smile. "See you downstairs, Kurt."

Kurt returned to browsing through music. He had no idea exactly how much time had passed before he heard quiet footsteps. "Good morning," Puck murmured into his ear, putting his arms around Kurt from behind. Kurt sighed and relaxed into his embrace.

"How are you feeling?" he said, and Puck chuckled.

"Fucking sore," Puck said. "And I mean that in the best possible way. You too?"

"Yeah," Kurt said. "I can't stop smiling." He turned his head and kissed Puck's cheek. Puck's eyes were calm and clear, but they were ringed by dark circles. "Did you get _any _sleep?"

Puck held him tighter. "It kind of sucked to go home last night. Nobody was there when I woke up in the middle of the night, so it was just me, and I tend to eat my own brain when I'm alone."

"Ew," said Kurt, laughing. "You could have called me. Or just snuck over. I would have loved it."

"Yeah, and how likely is it that we could actually be in a bed together and not want to do all that again? Immediately?" Puck's eyebrow bore into him, and Kurt sighed. "Exactly. I'm _sore, _dude. So yeah, I just watched stupid TV until it was time to come to school. I couldn't stop thinking about Ma. I was kind of hoping you'd be here."

"I have to head downstairs for rehearsal in a minute," said Kurt. "But I can be here for a little while. What do you need?"

"Just this," Puck whispered. They stood together for several minutes, as close as they could be given the circumstances, remembering how it'd felt to be even closer than this.

After a while, Kurt held out the piece of music he'd been clutching for Puck to examine. "You know this song?"

"Sure," he said, paging through it. "Total chick music. You want to do this for Glee?"

"I think it's just what we need," Kurt said. "We've been all about pretending to be something we're not. I mean, in Glee... and us." He touched Puck's arm, and the emotions that had felt so intense last night, that were still just under the surface, welled up in him again. He bit back a sob, and Puck was suddenly hugging him, crushing him to his chest.

"Baby," Puck whispered, stroking his hair. "It's okay."

"How can you be so strong," Kurt cried, shaking his head. "God, Noah. How do you stay strong when everything is so - so _awful?"_

"But it's not," he said. "It's not everything that's awful. _You're_ my fucking everything. You and Finn - you give me what I need, when things are crazy. How can I be scared when I know you're going to be there when I get home?"

"And that's worth it to you?" Kurt wiped his eyes on Puck's t-shirt.

"Fuck, yeah." Puck grinned. "Me and Meemee - Timothy - we used to pretend we had a secret hideout in our basement, like the Justice League, you know? It was a place where we had all the power, and nobody could yell at us or tell us we were worthless. I used to look forward to coming home to that all day at school. It was _pretend,_ and I knew it, but even _that_ was worth it." He brushed Kurt's hair back from his face and kissed him. "And this - this is _real._"

"I'm sorry to blubber all over you like this," Kurt said, but Puck snorted.

"Seriously? You're saying that to _me?"_ They each took a box of music and Puck snapped off the lights as Kurt shut the door behind them. He shot Kurt an amused look. "Sometimes I think I saved up all the crying I didn't do when my dad was around and now I'm paying for it."

They walked down the stairs in silence, but even in the midst of all the students, Kurt could feel the memory of Puck's kiss on his cheek, his hand in his hair, and he risked giving him a real smile as Puck was dropping off the box in the choir office. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Anytime," Puck said, with a little wave. "See you in English."

Rachel and Finn were laughing, and Kurt avoided Finn's gaze as he went to Mercedes and gave her a big hug.

"Hey, hot stuff," she said, giving him a probing look. "You feeling better? Yesterday after school you weren't doing so good."

"I'm..." Kurt glanced around, then whispered, "I'm _fantastic."_

"Whoa," she said. "You are totally going to expand on that at lunch today, got it?"

"If you think you can handle it," he said. "It's pretty big."

"I'd guessed that," Mercedes said, eyeing Finn, and cracked up as Kurt blushed from head to toe. "I mean, look at the size of those feet. Total giveaway."

"Come on," he said, rolling his eyes. "Get your mind out of the gutter. We've got to get ready to perform this number today."

While Mercedes and Rachel reviewed their choreography, Kurt handed the piece of music he'd found to Brad. "This one," he said quietly. "For Glee. What do you think?"

Brad looked it over briefly, then gave Kurt a nod. Kurt smiled, and turned all his attention on the song they were rehearsing. _Today's the day,_ he thought as Brad played the opening chords. _It's our first and only performance. We'd better make it count._

* * *

><p>Puck was dozing in his usual seat in the back of the room when the screech of a lab stool on the floor woke him. He blinked to see Mercedes settling herself in the seat beside him. "Hi," he said, puzzled. "What are you doing here?"<p>

"I _am_ in biology with you, Puckerman, in case you hadn't noticed," she said, getting out her notebook. "And Tina's at a dentist appointment." She gave him a cool look. "This okay with you?"

"Whatever," he said, shrugging. "I'm easy."

She smirked. "That's the story you feed everybody, anyway. Kurt tells a different story."

He closed his eyes and ignored the blush on his cheeks, remembering Kurt with exquisite detail, white and beautiful, saying _you feel so good, Noah..._ but then his brain made the connection with another bed, another white, still figure, this one at the hospital, and he flinched away. When he opened his eyes, Mercedes was watching him, her expression concerned.

"You - are you okay, Puck?"

"Sure," he said, with a tired smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, Kurt told me this morning that he was _fantastic,"_ she said. "And excuse me for noticing, but you don't look so _fantastic_ yourself."

"He said he was fantastic?" Puck suddenly felt ten times better, and he grinned at Mercedes. "All right."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Yeah. Whatever you guys did, I think it blew his mind."

"It kind of blew mine," Puck said, thinking of Finn, and felt a sweet twinge inside. "I'll let Kurt share the details. That's his business."

Mercedes slowly opened her textbook and found the page they were supposed to be on. "That's honorable of you," she said.

"Yeah, well, I don't kiss and tell." He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "What I really need is a fucking cup of coffee."

"You care about him?" she said. Puck zeroed in on her serious face and tried to focus.

"Yeah," he said, matching her tone. "I really do. Hope that's not a problem for you."

"I thought it might be, when I saw how you were treating him at school," she said. But he told me how things really were between the two of you. How it's just... an act. That's not really who you are."

"No," he agreed. "It's not."

She looked even more perplexed. "Why were you being like that before, then?"

"I thought I had to be." He ran a hand over his hair. "It turns out I don't. Finn - and Kurt - they helped me get to the person I really am."

"Wow," she said faintly.

"What?"

"I just saw - I thought I saw..." Her gaze flickered from his eyes to the textbook. "How you feel about him," she said.

"Them," he corrected. "And I do. I said so, didn't I?"

"Them," she echoed, tapping her pencil. "Yeah. That's... what's that all about, anyway?" Then she sighed and shook her head. "No. Never mind. That's _really_ none of my business."

"You care about him, too," Puck said, with a sideways glance. "So it kind of is your business. Okay, so, Finn and Kurt and I - we kind of came as a package deal. We're like... like ingredients. Finn's butter; Kurt's flour. They make a roux: really useful, flexible, totally the foundation of everything good. But then I'm the sugar, right? Kurt and me, we're kind of the same, both carbs, and if you mix us together, we're smooth and sweet - no lumps. And Finn and me, together we're buttercream frosting, delicious... but all together, we're shortbread, which is fucking _awesome,_ way more awesome than any two of us alone."

Mercedes looked like she wasn't sure if she was about to laugh or cry. "Okay, Kurt said you like to cook, but what you just said? That kind of made _me_ fall in love with you."

Puck considered his shoes and grinned. "So, you like to eat?"

"Every now and then," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "Kurt thinks we need to be friends and hang out and stuff. So I can see... how you guys are together. So I can understand."

"That's cool," he said. "I can hang out. You play Monopoly?"

"Uh... only under pain of death," she admitted. "But I can shake a mean Boggle."

"Girl, you would crush me," he said, shaking his head. "I can barely spell my own name. How about video games?"

Mercedes beamed. "Now you're talking. Call of Duty, Bad Company 2, Resistance, Halo..."

"No shit?" Puck said, grinning bigger. "Except I think we'd have to set Kurt up in the other room with a musical on the DVD player or something. He's got no tolerance for video games."

"Ah, you haven't discovered the secret," she said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Two drinks and he's all over the controller. You haven't heard Kurt swear until you've played Call of Duty: Black Ops with him on tequila."

"I've got it," he said, rubbing his hands together. "This weekend: you, me, the boys, dinner and tequila shots. Followed by rampant pwnage on the Xbox hooked up to Kurt's dad's 55 inch TV. You in?"

"Puck, that's not just a date, that's a moral imperative," she declared, and he laughed so hard Mrs. Stevens had to threaten him with detention before he could shut up.


	42. Chapter 42

Finn reached their attic room first, right at 12:15, because he'd left class a few minutes early on the pretext of a trip to the bathroom. Puck found him there, sitting with Puck's guitar in his lap, looking at it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. When Puck came in and saw that look on his face, he sighed.

"Dude," he said, a little aggravated. "Can you be more obvious?"

"What?" said Finn, raising an eyebrow. "Can't I want to hear you play? You're freaking awesome, man."

"Yeah, but seriously, we need to work on your subtlety." Puck shook his head, and reached out a hand for the guitar. "It'd be much cooler if you played a little hard to get; you know, like you thought I was only okay."

"But you're _not_ only okay," Finn said, handing it over.

Puck shrugged. "I guess you'll never be cool, Finn," he smirked, and strummed a few chords: Asus2, A, D.

"You know Kurt and I have been working on something," Finn said. "With some of the other Glee members."

"Yeah," Puck nodded, still strumming.

"We're gonna perform it today in Glee." Finn watched Puck's hands circumscribe the chords on the neck of the guitar, making it look effortless. "It's, uh, kind of for you."

Puck paused. "What do you mean?"

"Kurt heard this one song, and wanted to give it to you," Finn said. "He asked me to help, and some other folks - Mercedes, and Rachel. And Brad. We've been working on it since this weekend." He watched the surprise on Puck's face give way to shock and pleasure. Finn smiled back, and relaxed. "So, I thought you might want to sing to him, before he does that."

"Fuck, man," said Puck, his voice shaking. "As if I weren't enough of a mess. I don't know if I can even play right now, much less sing."

"You can," said Finn confidently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Puck looked up at Finn, kneeling on the floor beside him, and he gave him a curious smile. "You're always so sure," he said. "How do you _know?"_

"I don't always," Finn admitted. "But it seems to work when I trust myself."

"Yeah," Puck agreed. "You do pretty well." He hesitated, and then said, "I do have one song. Something that might be... nice. For us. But it doesn't have any guitar accompaniment. Would you rather hear something else?"

Finn thought about this. "Maybe we could hear the other one tonight, and you could play something now?" He looked hopeful, and Puck shook his head, grinning.

"You're acting like I'm feeding you or something."

"You kind of are," Finn whispered, and settled back on the floor, crossing his legs and waiting for Puck to begin.

When Kurt walked in a minute later, Puck was ready. He chewed his lip and began an unfamiliar, upbeat intro as Kurt, startled, closed the door and hurried to sit in front of Finn. Finn tucked him into the space on his lap, as though he were five years old, but Kurt didn't complain. Finn knew he liked it as much as Puck did. They listened avidly as Puck sang:

_There's a skeleton in everybody's closet_

_I can think of one or two in my own room_

_But I would like to introduce them both to you_

_You'd shake their bony hands and so dispel the gloom_

_'Cause you're so kind_

_I know you would not mind_

_To send away the ghosts that haunt me now_

_And the things I fear_

_Just wouldn't seem so near_

_And when I stroll out late at night_

_There would be nothing rattling at my heels_

Finn grinned to himself, remembering Puck's nightmare just a few weeks ago, and how he'd held him in the middle of the night, much the way he held Kurt now, wrapped in Puck's sleeping bag. It had seemed like such a big deal. He kissed Kurt's temple and held him tight, and Kurt leaned back into his embrace. _It was still a big deal,_ he thought, _but was starting to feel more familiar, like maybe it wasn't going to go away tomorrow. _

_There are nights when all my aching bones won't let me sleep_

_And demons come to plague me as I lie in bed_

_But I know if you were sleeping there beside me then_

_That you would fend them off and they would let me rest_

Puck looked at Kurt as he sang this verse, and Finn saw an answering smile on Kurt's lips. Watching Puck sing his chosen genre of music was a little like watching a pro wrestler do ballet - totally unexpected, and truly remarkable. One might expect a boy like Puck to like heavy metal, or R&B, perhaps, but Finn knew he'd been spoiled for that stuff early, knowing his dad's preferences. Puck couldn't have been more natural, singing, just him and his guitar, and Finn honestly couldn't think of anything he'd rather be doing, at that moment, than listening to him. Puck dug in as he moved into the bridge:

_There are nights_

_When the wind comes howling through my old place_

_I have dreams_

_And I wake up with the sweat pouring down my face_

_And I wait till the morning comes_

Finn was absolutely sure this was true, even though he'd never seen Puck in the middle of the night, before that time - he, himself, tended to sleep like a rock, or even several rocks. How Puck dealt with his fears was something he'd wondered about. Now he was even more curious. He'd need to address it with him.

Puck wrapped up the song with a final verse and a repeat of the chorus:

_There will come a time I fear when all my days are done_

_And they will come collect my corpse and bury me_

_But I hope you'll come over to the Other Side_

_To join me in our new life, keep me company _

_'Cause you're so kind_

_I know you would not mind_

_To send away the ghosts that haunt me now_

_And the things I fear_

_Just wouldn't seem so near_

_And when I stroll out late at night_

_There would be nothing rattling at my heels_

Even before the final notes sounded, without thinking, Kurt and Finn moved forward to flank Puck, intertwining their arms around him in a macrame of appreciation. "Noah," said Kurt, against his neck. "Thank you." He rested his head against Puck's and sighed in contentment. "I would be honored to send away your ghosts."

"Nothing I'd rather do," agreed Finn from his other side. "Especially if it means we get to sleep in a bed together."

Puck groaned, as though he were eating the best dessert in the world. "Fuck, yeah. When are we going to do that again?"

"How's Friday sound?" said Kurt. "My house. My bed is small, but I bet we can squash."

"Oh -" Puck blinked. "Yeah. Your house. Uh, I kind of invited someone over on Friday."

"Okay," said Finn. "Who?"

"Mercedes," he said.

There was a silence.

"Excuse me," Kurt said to Finn, as though Puck hadn't spoken. "Did you hear something about Mercedes coming over for dinner this Friday?

Finn looked as puzzled as he could manage, which admittedly wasn't hard. "I thought I heard that, too," he said. "But Puck and Mercedes aren't friends, right?"

"Right," said Kurt. "So I must have been imagining things."

"We hung out in Biology this morning," Puck added, and grinned big at the expression on Kurt's face. "Everything's cool. She's all right, you know."

Kurt moved in to his lap, hands roving over Puck's body and mouth pressing into his. "Dude," Puck protested breathlessly, between kisses. "I thought for sure you were cooler than your boyfriend, but it looks like I was wrong. You're supposed to make me work for it."

"Fuck that," snapped Kurt. "We have five minutes before we have to be in American History. Make it count, sweetheart."


	43. Chapter 43

_(Author's note: I completely forgot to credit the song in the last chapter - several of you asked about it. It was The Ghosts That Haunt Me by Crash Test Dummies, one of my very favorite bands of all time. http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=9M-KgH-ENzo -amy)_

* * *

><p>This time, Kurt was the one to escape class a few minutes early. He needed to be at Glee before everyone else arrived to set things up. Everything had to be just right. He knew he was particular, but he had a very clear idea in his head about how this performance should come out, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to work as hard as he could to make it happen that way.<p>

Then he heard voices raised in conflict, and paused outside the choir room. He could make out Mr. Schue's voice, but the other one was unfamiliar for a moment. Then he realized it was Brad. He still wasn't used to hearing him _talk._

"You're going tomorrow?" Brad said. "Will, it's the middle of the week. Just wait a few more days."

"I can't," Mr. Schue said, and Kurt was shocked to hear tears in his voice. "It's too much. I need to be there."

"Nothing's going to change in three days." Kurt peeked around the corner of the door, feeling somewhat guilty for listening in, but unsure if he should interrupt. He really needed to get in there and set up. "You're overreacting," Brad was saying.

"You try living with Terri for twenty-four hours and then tell me that," Mr. Schue said, pointing an accusing finger at Brad.

"Forget it," Brad said, holding up his hands. "I didn't even want her when we were in high school. Way too high maintenance for me. You can have her."

"Thanks," Mr. Schue snapped. He ran a hand over his forehead and sighed. "I - I just need to get away for a couple days."

"These kids need you, Will," Brad said. "Sectionals is just around the corner."

"You don't think I don't know that?" Mr. Schue sank into a chair, and Brad came to sit beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I couldn't even see how bad we were, Brad. That Hair number - there was no way we could even compete using that, and we wasted a whole week on it. I let them make a fool of themselves in front of those Haverbrook kids. I screwed up, and it's because I've lost sight of what's important. I need to go get it back."

"You think you can find it in Denver?" Brad said quietly.

"I always have before," Mr. Schue replied, just as quietly.

Kurt made a little noise, and Brad looked up to see him standing there. He gave Kurt a shake of his head, and Kurt backed away from the door. "I have an idea," he heard Brad say. "A song that might work. Let me show it to you - it's just singing, no choreography needed. Just their voices. They can get it ready in time."

"Yeah?" Mr. Schue sounded tired, but willing to listen.

"Yeah. You can wait, book a flight for after sectionals. Just hang in there, Will, it's going to be okay."

Kurt watched Brad sitting there with his arm around Mr. Schue's slumped shoulders, and he felt something inside him twist. He'd never seen his teacher so needy, so lost. It was disconcerting, like - like he imagined how he'd feel if Finn were to act like that. _Mr. Schue was supposed to take care of us,_ he thought. _But who takes care of him? I guess it's not his wife. Then who?_

He deliberately banged into a trash can, then waited a few seconds before coming in through the door of the choir room. Mr. Schue had composed himself and and was busy looking over the music - the song Kurt had given to Brad this morning. Brad caught Kurt's eye, then jerked his chin at Mr. Schue with a meaningful look. At first Kurt didn't understand, but then Brad pointed at the music and raised an eyebrow. _Tell him you found it? _

Kurt shook his head, and the look on Brad's face was hard to read. It was kind of sad, and kind of impressed, but mostly all Brad - silent and inscrutable. He shrugged and began to set up the Yamaha for their song.

Mr. Schue looked calmer now, more sure of himself, and he gave Kurt a smile. "Today's the day, right, Kurt? You said you've got something to show us?" Kurt nodded. "I heard through the grapevine that you've been working hard on this. That's the kind of motivation I'm looking for from you guys." He patted Kurt on the arm. "Nice work."

The praise made his back feel a little straighter, and he stood tall and poised. "I'm ready, Mr. Schue."

* * *

><p>"Here, Finn, let me help with that," said Rachel, lifting the snare drum and bringing it over to the rest of the kit by the piano.<p>

"Thanks." Finn pulled the stool over and sat behind the drum kit, positioning each one to suit his long reach. "Kurt's really nervous," he said quietly, pointing to him standing by himself in the corner, breathing deeply and rolling his shoulders.

"I don't see why," Rachel said. "He loves to perform, and you can't get a more accepting audience than Glee club. There's a reason why they call it 'preaching to the choir.'"

Finn knew exactly why Kurt was nervous, but his stomach did an uneasy roll when he thought about telling Rachel about Kurt and Puck. _Telling Quinn was a risk,_ he thought, _but telling Rachel would be like telling Jacob Ben-Israel: the whole school would know._ So he just shrugged and tried to change the subject. "This has been fun, hasn't it? I like singing with you guys. You, and Kurt and Mercedes, you're so talented. I mostly just played the drums for myself, but it's awesome to do it in a group. Like we're a real band."

Rachel's face was wistful. "It's... different," she said. "Pop music has never been my forte, and, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not used to singing in the background. But... you're right. It was fun." She gazed at Finn, doe-eyed. "I like singing with you, too."

Finn swallowed. At that moment, Puck entered the room and took in the charged look Rachel was giving Finn. Puck smirked and made a lewd gesture, just for Finn.

"You'd... better get ready," Finn said to her, and Rachel, nodding, went off to pester Mercedes about their choreography.

"Dude," Puck said, low and amused, as he passed Finn toward his usual spot on the risers. "You planning to hit that? Just remember our agreement about _being safe_."

"Puck," he sighed, but Puck had already sauntered by. He felt off-balance. Finn wasn't going to chase after him, but after all the work they'd put into this number, he hated to leave Puck in this frame of mind. He wasn't at all sure how he'd take it.

Mr. Schue stuck his head out of the choir office. "Puck - there's a phone call for you." His face was controlled, but he looked concerned. Finn wandered over to stand by the office while Puck went in to take the call.

"The call was from St. Rita's," Mr. Schue said to Finn in an undertone. "Do you know what this is about?"

"Uh, yeah," Finn said, scratching his neck. "But Puck doesn't want everybody to know about it." He watched Puck, tense and listening to the voice on the phone, through the open door to the office. He saw Kurt shoot them a quick, worried glance. "His Ma's in the hospital," he finally said. "She kind of had a seizure. They've been doing tests the last couple days."

Schue's eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned back on the wall. "He's been dealing with this all alone? I know his dad's not -"

"No," Finn said. "He's got me and my mom and... it's okay."

Mr. Schue nodded, slowly. "You're a good friend, Finn." He glanced around at the students who were starting to filter into the choir room. "You want to see if he needs anything? We've got a few minutes before class starts."

"All right," Finn agreed. "Thanks."

As he edged into the office, Kurt gave him another look, this one more openly concerned. "I'll be out in a bit," he said to Kurt, trying to convey a sense of calm he wasn't feeling himself.

Puck was a tight ball of near-panic when Finn closed the door behind him. The windows to the choir office were covered with fliers and posters, affording them some privacy. "So it's been a fucking waste of time," Puck was saying, his voice strained. "Not to mention money. Don't think I don't know what this is going to cost." He gritted his teeth. "Fuck that, _Timothy._ She's just saying it to get a rise out of you. Let me talk to her."

Finn threaded his fingers into Puck's and let Puck grab on, his nails digging into the back of Finn's hand. Puck didn't look at him, but he could feel him gravitating toward Finn as he paced and postured, and he tugged him closer with their linked hands.

Puck sighed, a great blast of air. "Moronic doctors don't know what the fuck they're doing," he muttered. "Hey, Ma - yeah, it's okay, it's just Glee. What's this stuff Meemee said about your tests?" He tossed Finn's hand around restlessly like it was a hackey sack. Finn could feel the energy rolling around them, and he put his other hand on Puck's neck, pressing down.

"Breathe," he whispered, and Puck let his shoulders drop, his head hanging down to his chest. He squeezed his eyes tight.

"So it's no different from before, right?" Puck said. "No, Ma, I know, I just mean - we can take care of it at home. It's not a big deal." He shook his head. "Of course you are. For God's sake, Ma... now don't even _say_ that. You're not being fair." Finn tried to move in closer, but now Puck resisted, pushing him away. Finn dropped his hand and let him go, watching him carefully.

"I know I said I had plans for Friday, but it's okay. We can do Shabbas first at home. It'll be fine. You need -" Suddenly Puck's free hand flexed into a fist. "That's not how it is and you know it!" he shouted. "This is about your health, not about my fucking boyfriends." Finn's eyes flickered to the door, but there was no one around. "Sorry," Puck added, tersely. "Look, can't we just wait and talk about this after school? I'll pick up Sarah and come right over, and -" He stopped, stricken. There was a long pause.

"What is it?" Finn asked urgently.

Puck shook his head. He looked like someone had slapped him. "No," he said hoarsely. "That's not what I..." He took a deep breath. "Ma, don't ask me that. I can't. I just can't do that."

As Finn watched, he saw Puck's face narrow, drawing in on itself, until he was stony and sullen. "Fine," he bit out. "Your loss. I'll take care of Sarah myself. You can have your fucking golden boy."

He slammed the school phone down in its cradle with a satisfying ringing noise. Then he let out a wordless roar of frustration and kicked Mr. Schue's big metal desk, hard. _"Fuck!"_ he yelled, and kicked it again.

Finn wasn't even sure how to begin how to calm him down from this, so he just stood back and let Puck rage. "Tell me what she said," Finn said.

Puck just shook his head, breathing hard. "Get out, Finn. You can't help with this."

"No," he said, incredulous. "Screw that. I'm not leaving you."

Those words did something to Puck, made him crumple like Finn had kicked him in the stomach, and he sank down into Mr. Schue's desk chair, leaning over. His face was pale.

Finn got down on his knees in front of Puck. "You're not going to puke on me, are you?" asked Finn, but Puck didn't laugh. "Tell me," he said again, not putting any command in his voice, just presenting the offer to listen. "What happened at the hospital?"

"Ma's tests came back. Inconclusive. Basically, they have no fucking idea what's going on. Everything looks fine and she can go home."

"That's good?" Finn said. "I mean, nothing's wrong."

"Finn," he said, his voice hollow, still staring at the floor. "You look at my Ma and tell me nothing's wrong." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "She - fuck. _Fuck._ Meemee's going to bring her home. He's going to come stay with us for a while."

"That's good too?" Finn said, even less certain.

"No, it's _not_ good, Finn," Puck snarled. "He's just a walking reminder of how things were when my dad was there. I look at him and things - they come back. I can't fucking sleep because every time I close my eyes, I just see my dad and I _remember. _And now -" He stopped talking, and wiped his nose again, pissed as hell.

"Now, what?"

"She said I had to stop seeing you." Each word was measured, with equal weight. "Both of you. Or I could just not come home."

"What?" Finn whispered, stunned. There was a knock on the door. "Give us a minute," he called.

Puck turned his dull eyes on Finn. "I told her forget it," he said. "I'm done. She can play house with Timothy. I'm taking Sarah and we're getting out of here."

"Puck, wait." Finn shook his head, trying desperately to hold on to that calm center. "You don't need to do that. Just - come stay with me for a few days."

Puck wasn't listening. "How could she treat you that way?" he went on. "Your mom, Burt - you and Kurt - in the hospital - I thought she was getting past her stupid prejudice. I thought it was somehow going to be okay. I'm such a fucking _idiot."_

"Stop that," Finn said, clutching his arms. He heard noises on the other side of the door, and called again, "Be out in a second." Then, to Puck: "You're not. I know this sucks, but -"

"Finn, you have _no fucking idea_ how much this sucks," Puck spat at him. "Your mom is awesome. She loves you no matter what you do. You and Kurt are never going to know what this feels like." He hung his head between his shoulders. "I'm glad you won't."

"You're right," he said. "I can't know. But you're going to have to let me help anyway." He prayed the door would stay closed, and wrapped his arms around Puck in a tight hug. "Dude. You said it yourself. We're _family,_ remember?"

"God, Finn," Puck said weakly, and he started to cry. "I can't fucking do this at school!"

"You can," Finn said, gathering Puck into his lap, right there on the floor, propping his back against the door. "Let me handle it. Just let it go."

Puck's defenses were shot, and he didn't resist any further. He let his head fall onto Finn's shoulder and curled into himself, and Finn supported every part of him as he relaxed into the sobs that took over. "Yeah," said Finn roughly, feeling Puck's tears course through him - not hurting, exactly, but more like washing over him, cleansing him, all the masks of high school torn away, leaving them just who they were, Puck and Finn, nothing else. "That's it. I'll take care of it. Just let me handle it."

"God... just look at me, Finn," Puck whispered, his voice breaking, into Finn's shirt. "How can you want me like this? I'm such a loser."

"You're not," Finn said, shaking his head.

"I am," he insisted. "I'm weak and I'm a loser and I'm fucking sitting in your _lap_."

"That doesn't make you a loser," said Finn, gripping him fiercely. "That makes you _mine._ You're _mine,_ understand? This is what I need. Now _let go._"

Puck gave one more gasp, and Finn felt him settle against him, relaxing into his body. He wasn't crying anymore. He was still and calm. "Yours," Puck said, and he sounded amazed.

"Yeah," said Finn, just a breath of a voice in his ear. "Did you forget already? Maybe after school we'll go right over to my house and I can remind you."

"I have to pick up Sarah," Puck murmured, and Finn grinned that, even in the midst of this strange altered state, he was thinking of his sister.

"Kurt can get her today," he said. "They can go to the garage and hang out with Burt."

"Yes, sir." His voice was quiet, all the anger and sadness wiped away, leaving him clear and open. Finn knew he was as receptive as he'd ever be. He took his face in his hand, making Puck look at him. Puck's eyes were wide.

"You're going to come out here and listen to Kurt sing this song for you," he said. "You're going to listen, and hear what he's trying to tell you, okay? You're not going to worry about anything else, just listen to Kurt."

Puck nodded, looking up at him, deliciously pliant and obedient, and Finn sternly told his cock to shut up already. If he kissed Puck now it would probably end with Puck up against Mr. Schue's desk with his pants half-off, and that was just a whole can of dangerous. "All right," he said. "You ready to go out there?"

"No," said Puck, standing shakily. "But I'll do it."

"That's my good boy," Finn said, and slipped back through the door, leaving Puck in the choir office to manage his flushed face.


	44. Chapter 44

Kurt watched Finn disappear into the choir office with a sense of foreboding. Judging by Mr. Schue's solemn concern, it was something about Puck's mother. He closed his eyes, trying to relax. He knew Finn would handle it, but it was hard to know Puck was on the other side of the window - _his Noah,_ he thought anxiously - and not to be able to do something about it.

"Mr. Schue," he said, then paused. How could he publicly express concern for Puck when Puck was supposed to be the one harassing him at school? Then he shook his head, feeling suddenly angry with himself. _When did covering up the truth start to be more important than caring for my friends? Puck came through for me when I got slushied, all those weeks ago, before anything happened between us. _He set his jaw and said, "Mr. Schue, is Puck all right?"

"I don't know," Mr. Schue said, surprising Kurt. He expected him to gloss over the problem, as so many grownups did with kids, but he seemed to be reacting honestly, talking to him like he mattered. "Finn said he's going through some hard stuff."

"I know," Kurt said, and Mr. Schue gave him a puzzled look. Kurt just stared back, resting in his newfound confidence, and letting Mr. Schue think what he wanted. _One at a time,_ he thought. _I can do this, one at a time. We can make people see who we really are._ He cleared his throat. "Puck's been a good friend these last couple weeks."

"He - what?" Mr. Schue said, startled.

"He's been a good friend," Kurt said again. "We've had our share of differences, it's true, but I'm putting all that behind me. He's been there for me when I got... stuck in something I couldn't get out of. This song I'm singing - it's partly for him."

"Kurt," Mr. Schue said, and paused, searching Kurt's face. "You've got a big heart, you know that?" he said finally.

Kurt's throat tightened. "It's bad form to make the performer cry before he has to go on, Mr. Schue," he said. Mr. Schue laughed, and his smile touched his eyes.

He reached over and knocked on the door to the choir room. "Give us a minute," they heard Finn's muffled voice say.

"Do you think Finn needs help?" said Mr. Schue. "I could go in."

"No," said Kurt, firmly. "I suspect Finn can handle anything Puck can dish out." _And then some. _

"I'm sure you're right," Mr. Schue said. They heard Puck yell, "Fuck!" and Kurt winced at the sound of metal bumping the wall. Mr. Schue sighed. "I just hope they don't destroy my office in the process."

"Give Puck the benefit of the doubt," said another voice, and Kurt looked up to see Mercedes standing beside him, looking chic and sleek in a gold top and black skirt, and wearing one of the Hairography wigs, now striped brown and tan.

"Give _Puck_ the benefit of the doubt?" Mr Schue repeated, clearly disbelieving what he was hearing.

"Yeah," she said, and put an arm around Kurt. "He's had a bad day."

Mr. Schue looked from Mercedes, to Kurt, and back again. He nodded, slowly. "Believe me," he said, and laughed a little. "I know what it's like to have a bad day."

"Puck's had a whole squadron of them this week," Kurt assured him, making Mr. Schue laugh again. Mr. Schue shuffled around outside the door.

"Be out in a second," they heard Finn call again. Mercedes took Kurt by the hand and steered him over to their chosen spots on the floor.

"You're going to come apart if you keep opening yourself up to everybody like this," she said, but her voice was kind. "Kurt... Mr. Schue doesn't need to know about you and Puck."

Kurt thought of the Mr. Schue he'd overheard crying in the choir room. "Maybe he does," he said, stubbornly.

"Something _is_ wrong, isn't it?" she asked. "With Puck? I saw something this morning... we were talking in biology." She shook her head. "He didn't look a hundred percent."

"Bad day doesn't really cover it," Kurt said, under his breath. "But we've been taking care of him. Finn - he can handle it."

As if in answer to a call, the door opened to the choir office, and Finn stepped out. He looked calm, even serene, and he came right over to Kurt, holding his arm and leaning in. "He's ready to hear you," he said quietly. "Let's do this."

"Yes s-" said Kurt, and bit off the rest. Finn chuckled. "Yes," Kurt said, again, meeting his gaze, feeling Finn's trust and confidence, the gift of himself that he brought to their relationship. "Thank you."

The door to the choir office opened again, and a changed Puck stepped out. His face was open, stripped down, his eyes red but dry. Kurt guessed that not many of the kids in Glee had seen Puck like this before, but Kurt knew him well, and he felt a shiver go through him. It was the boy he loved - and here he was, looking tentatively around the choir room like he'd been newly hatched.

Mr. Schue asked him something, and Puck nodded in response. He made brief eye contact with Kurt and Finn before walking to his seat and sitting down. Santana moved her chair close to his, and took his hand. After a moment, Quinn surprised Kurt by walking over and sitting on Puck's other side. They flanked him, for all the world like sentinels protecting him.

Finn's hand on his arm brought him back. "Baby," Finn whispered. Kurt felt that word all the way down inside him, touching his core, and he closed his eyes briefly, stunned. "If last night was the Finn show, well, this is the Kurt show. It's all you. You're in charge now."

Kurt felt the rest of Glee watching them, and he backed up a step, standing tall. "You better believe it, Finn," he said, and Finn smiled, just for him, before going to sit at the drum kit, waiting and watching for Kurt's lead.


	45. Chapter 45

_(Author's note: It's Kurt's big moment. You're going to want to have heard the song. Here's the version that's closest to what he is probably singing, minus the saxophone. I recommend listening as you read. http:/ www. youtube. com/watch?v=Okq8xHrIZ8I )_

* * *

><p>Mr. Schue gestured to Kurt, and as Finn watched, he stood and took his place in the front of the room. Kurt was wearing the blonde hairography wig, a gold sleeveless shirt and black skinny jeans with his black Marc Jacobs boots. Finn didn't think he could honestly say he'd ever seen Kurt look more confident. He knew part of it had come from him, but Kurt had a great deal of confidence of his own.<p>

Kurt regarded his audience with calm entitlement. Sometimes Finn thought Kurt looked more at home on the stage than any other place - and Finn thought he might be in a position to judge, as he'd seen Kurt in some rather intimate settings in the past several weeks. He felt an overwhelming rush of pride and love for him, for all the things he'd given to Finn, to the three of them - for what they'd become, in such a short time. _My family,_ he thought, and it was dizzying.

"When we started this assignment," Kurt began, speaking to the whole room in a clear voice, "Mr. Schue brought us these wigs." He indicated his fabulous blonde hair with a flip of his head. "He told us we needed hairography to distract our audience from seeing our flaws, to cover up the things we weren't so proud of about ourselves. But it's not true." His gaze met each person in the room, individually, touching them with its certainty. "The things we're least proud of about ourselves - that's our strength. That's our real center, the gift we have to give to each other. We need to hold on to that, especially, when things are hard. We shouldn't pretend to be something we're not, because sometimes, our flaws are all we have." He smiled at Puck. "Lady Gaga - and a ten year old girl - taught me that."

"Eleven this week," Puck murmured, eyes fixed on Kurt.

Finn wasn't sure he could guard the feelings coursing through him from showing on his face, so he directed his eyes to the floor, taking a steadying breath. He moved his gaze across the room, and saw, with a start, that Quinn was sitting by Puck, regarding Finn with a bemused expression. She looked pointedly at him, and then patted Puck's leg, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

_Ah,_ thought Finn, and swallowed. _She figured it out. Who took the picture. _He hesitated, then nodded, once. Her lips twisted in a satisfied half-smile.

Kurt's smile was almost regal as he surveyed the room. "This song is just for us," he said firmly. "It's a gift, given to us, to hear, but not to share. We can't take it outside this room, until Gaga has her turn with it. Nobody's heard it but us." An excited murmur went through the room, and he nodded, looking hard at Puck. "But just because we won't share it with the public doesn't mean it's not worth doing."

"Damn straight," muttered Mercedes, smoothing her own wig. Rachel, dressed identically to Mercedes, and the rest of Glee watched Kurt with rapt amazement. _He is totally brilliant,_ Finn thought, and he knew by the expressions on everyone else's face that he wasn't just thinking that because he was biased. _Even though I am. _

And it was lucky that everybody was wrapped up in watching Kurt, because he knew anyone seeing the expression on Puck's face, watching him at that moment, would never be able to mistake it for anything but love. _He loves Kurt._ Finn hadn't really questioned it before, in the heat of the moments they'd shared, but they could have been lust disguised as something else. This absolutely wasn't. It was just pure and simple - love.

Kurt nodded at Brad, and Mercedes and Rachel took their cue, beginning a background hum as Brad played the introduction on the Yamaha. Kurt stood with his arms crossed, eyes down, as though a spotlight were on him. Finn thought he could imagine one, lighting Kurt's gold shirt, making him shimmer. He looked up and met the eyes of his audience, and began:

_Whenever I'm dressed cool, my parents put up a fight_

_And if I'm hot shot, Mom will cut my hair at night_

Kurt sang expressively, hamming it up. Rachel and Mercedes stood on either side of Kurt, mirroring each other's movements in a slow dance, pretending to pull at his wig. Finn came in on the drums, keeping time, building the tension around Kurt.

_In the morning, I'm short of my identity_

_I scream, "Mom and Dad, why can't I be who I want to be?"_

_Too bad!_

As Finn built the drum part around Brad's synthesizers and piano - he had no idea how Brad could play both at the same time, but he seemed to manage just fine - Kurt reached up and tore off the wig, revealing his own shining, honey-brown hair, standing defiantly in the center. Mercedes and Rachel sang the harmony, but Kurt's own strong voice carried the melody with power and confidence.

_I just wanna be myself, and I want you to love me for who I am_

_I just wanna be myself and I want you to know_

_I am my hair_

The synthesizer wove a counterpoint to the melody as all three of them broke into the harmony of the jubilant chorus, raising their hands to the sky.

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

_I've had enough _

_I'm not a freak_

_I'll just keep fighting to stay cool on the streets_

Kurt sang out the passionate final lines of the chorus by himself, to Mercedes and Rachel's backup:

_I've had enough, enough, enough_

_And this is my prayer_

_I swear, I'm as free as my hair_

_I am my hair_

Rachel and Mercedes danced around Kurt with wild abandon, mimicking the hairography of their failed number in clever commentary that made Mr. Schue shout with laughter. The whole Glee audience was on their feet, clapping and moving with their infectious energy. Puck stood, grinning and laughing along with the rest, with Santana and Quinn rocking to the driving beat. Artie, Tina, Mike and Matt - there was no way they could have stayed still through the energy of their song.

The second verse landed Mercedes front and center, showing off her striped wig, and she sang the first lines against the driving synthesizers:

_Sometimes I want some raccoon or red highlights_

_Just because I want my friends to think I'm dynamite_

Mercedes gave way to Rachel, who moved to the middle and took the spotlight, brushing her bangs across her forehead in a deliberate gesture that everyone recognized belonged to Kurt:

_And on Friday McKinley High School dance_

_I've got my bangs to hide that I don't stand a chance_

_No chance!_

Rachel's dramatic motions were in perfect sync with the words. Now the three of them danced over to ring Finn, and he smiled as they leaned in, one at a time, to connect with him as he played his heart out, singing with them in harmony:

_I just wanna be myself, and I want you to love me for who I am_

_I just wanna be myself and I want you to know_

_I am my hair_

The message was triumphant, and though it carried to the walls and ceiling of the choir room and no further, the whole of Glee felt its importance. Finn, and everyone else, sang along with Kurt and Rachel and Mercedes on the second chorus:

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

_I've had enough _

_I'm not a freak_

_I'll just keep fighting to stay cool on the streets_

_I've had enough, enough, enough_

_And this is my prayer_

_I swear, I'm as free as my hair_

_I am my hair_

Kurt's voice rang out on the bridge, and he glanced up through his lashes in a sweet, innocent way that Finn knew was a brilliant put-on. Finn played his drums behind Kurt's vocals, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face:

_I just wanna be free_

_I just wanna be me_

_And I want lots of friends that invite me to their parties_

_I don't wanna change_

_And I don't wanna be ashamed_

_I'm the spirit of my hair_

_It's all the glory that I bear_

_I'm my hair, I'm my hair_

Brad's pianos and synthesizers wove their interlocking melodies around Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes as they danced the part they had choreographed, in the style of Lady Gaga, with sharp unison movements. Their Glee audience ate it up, hooting appreciation as the three of them threw themselves into the dance, free and wholly themselves. Rachel and Mercedes tossed the lead back and forth, improvising and showing off their voices. Then, in tight formation, they finished the song in three-part harmony against Finn's strong drums:

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

_I've had enough_

_This is my prayer_

_That I'll die living just as free as my hair_

Brad's piano and synthesizer parts returned, and they led the audience to clap along to the stunning finish:

_I've had enough _

_I'm not a freak_

_I'll just keep fighting to stay cool on the streets_

_I've had enough, enough, enough_

_And this is my prayer_

_I swear, I'm as free as my hair_

_I am my hair_

Kurt, Rachel and Mercedes ended in a dramatic pose that brought down the house. Everyone in Glee coalesced in a spontaneous group hug around the performers, pretenses and fears erased through the power of song. Kurt looked overwhelmed, but radiant, and Mercedes and Rachel stood together with their arms around each other like they were best buddies. From behind the piano, Brad made eye contact with Finn, and winked.

"Kurt," Mr. Schue said, with the biggest smile Finn had ever seen on his face. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am that you can't perform that number for Sectionals. I have no doubt in my mind that you'd win."

"By a landslide," Mike cried, and the rest of the group shouted their agreement. "That was amazing - incredible."

Finn watched as Kurt found himself in the middle of the group, face to face with Puck. Kurt's jubilant smile was impossible to resist. "So, Noah," he said, breathless. "Did I sell you on Lady Gaga?"

Puck's open, honest gaze flickered to the floor, and back to Kurt's shining face. "I heard you, Kurt," he replied. "Thanks." Then he grabbed Kurt in a brief, tight hug. "So much," he whispered into his hair. In the shared moment, no one thought it was weird; it was just part of the collective energy surrounding their song. But Finn saw Kurt's face, and he knew he was changed by that brief hug, in a way that all the incredible events of the past weeks couldn't quite match. _Puck was changed, too,_ he thought, and saw on Puck's face that it was true.

"I don't think I can top that," Mr. Schue said. "I think we're done for today. Awesome job, all of you. _That _was what hairography should be."

Finn watched as Santana hovered near Puck, carefully scrutinizing his face, and was pleased and gratified to see her lead him away to sit in a quiet corner of the room. She seemed to understand he was overwhelmed, and knew what to do about it, even if she didn't understand the cause.

The group was slow to filter away. Rachel and Mercedes couldn't stop talking about the song, and Finn had to gently guide them into the hallway. Artie and Tina followed, and Mike and Matt hovered by Puck for another minute before Santana's glares chased them away.

Quinn came to him then, and stood before him, arms crossed. She seemed a lot taller suddenly, and Finn was nervous before her calm regard. "So... Puck?" she said, raising her eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said.

Her gaze flickered to him, in the corner with Santana, and back. "Um -"

"He told me," Finn said. "About that time with you. And me."

She raised the other eyebrow to meet the first. "Really."

"Yeah," he said. He just looked at her. "I'm letting you in, remember?"

"I know," she said. "It's just - _Puck?" _Her voice was almost wistful. "Really?"

"Really," Finn said, and she shook her head, unable to say anything more.

Then she turned her gaze to Kurt, still glowing, talking to Mr. Schue, and she bit her lip. "You're different," she said.

"You said that before," he said, setting his drumsticks down and standing. Now she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. "I'm more myself than I've ever been, Quinn."

"I think I - I get that," she said quietly. "It's just going to take me a little while."

"Take your time," he said, and walked away from her, leaving her standing there to collect her thoughts before heading home.

"We'll have to pass the recording to her through your friend," Mr. Schue said. "I'm sure she'd be impressed."

"You think so?" Kurt said, cheeks pink. He looked up at Finn. "Mr. Schue thinks we should let Mama Gaga hear our little arrangement of her song. I... I think I might throw up if she doesn't like it, though."

"No chance of that, dude," he said, putting a companionable arm around Kurt's shoulders. "It was awesome. Don't you think so?"

"It was - life changing," Kurt admitted. "I don't think I've ever quite felt like that before."

"Your talent is showing," Brad said, and they all stopped talking and stared at him. "What?" he said, innocently.

Mr. Schue's eyes moved from Finn, to Brad, and back, and then he laughed. "This has been a hell of a day." He and Brad began to tear down the synthesizer and put the equipment away.

"How's Noah?" Kurt said in an undertone, and he glanced over at Puck, sitting quietly with Santana in the corner.

"I think he's all right," said Finn. "I'll take him back to my house. Can you pick up Sarah at school today?"

"Okay," Kurt said, uncertainly. "I'll- I'll take her out for her birthday."

"No, Finn," he heard, low and urgent, and Finn looked up to see Brad shaking his head.

"What is it?" he asked.

Brad looked over his shoulder at Mr. Schue, and moved close enough to be heard. "Puck. He's hurting, right? He needs you guys."

"I'm taking care of him," Finn said, but Brad shook his head again.

"He needs _both_ of you," he said, looking at Finn, first, then Kurt. "Don't cut him off from either of you. It's a bad mistake, one you really don't want to make. He needs you both right now. Stick together."

"Yes, I could call Dad and have him pick up Sarah at school later," said Kurt, relieved, and Finn nodded, feeling much better. _Yes. Brad was right._

"You need to know about the phone call," Finn said, and Kurt's eyes became wary. "I'll tell you about it in the car. Hey." He clasped Kurt's hand. "That was amazing. Really. You're... awesome. With awesome sauce."

Kurt rolled his eyes and and laughed, turning red again. "I wonder what that would taste like," he teased.

"I look forward to finding out," Finn said, grinning, and squeezed his hand.

"Yeah," Kurt breathed, and the look in his eyes made Finn pretty sure they would be doing things other than studying when they got home. "I - I'm going to go get changed." Kurt disappeared around the corner.

That left Puck and Santana. Finn approached them slowly, pausing a reasonable distance away. Santana came over to him, close enough so they could talk without Puck hearing; he barely seemed to be listening, anyway.

"Epic win, Frankenteen," Santana said with approval. "Que buena onda. Brittany's going to be so bummed that she missed it. She's home with mono." Her eyes flickered to Puck. "Do you know what's up with Short, Dark and Freaked Out, here?"

"He had a crisis," Finn said. "His Ma kicked him out."

Her eyes widened. "Fuck me. What'd he do now?"

Finn sighed. "Nothing. It's just his Ma."

"It must have been something. Parents don't kick you out for no -" She paused, narrowing her eyes. "Wait. Does this have anything to do with his secret girlfriend?"

"His - oh. Maybe." He chewed on his lip, watching Puck. He was quiet, but his eyes were watching Finn, and he looked like he might be having trouble articulating something. Finn got down on his knees in front of Puck and touched his knee. "You okay, dude?" he said softly.

"Finn. I'm..." Puck glanced at Santana, and sighed. "I'm a little tired. Are we getting out of here?"

"Yeah," said Finn. "I'll take you to my place. Burt's picking up Sarah."

"That's good," he said, and closed his eyes.

Finn took his arm, guiding him to his feet, and grabbed his backpack. "Thanks for helping him, Santana."

"Whatever," she muttered. "You're welcome. Hope he doesn't keel over on the way home." She eyed Finn, and then said, quickly, "Text me and let me know how he's doing. Okay?" She grabbed her bag, turned away and stalked off, high heels clicking on the linoleum floor.

"Dude," he said in Puck's ear. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Just get me out of here," said Puck. "I'm fucking done with school." He looked lost, confused. "Where's Kurt?"

"He's gone to get changed," Finn said. "Don't worry. We're going to take you home."


	46. Chapter 46

_(Author's note: A few of you have asked about Mr. Schue and what he was doing in Denver. That story is being written as we speak, and it'll be a significant part of the next story in the Donutverse. Suffice it to say that Will and his angst has been consuming my writing days. There's plenty of angst here, too, so hang on. _

_The Missing Piece is a lovely book by Shel Silverstein. –amy)_

* * *

><p>Kurt drove the Navigator, with Finn and Puck in the back seat, while Finn explained as best he could what had happened with Puck's Ma. Puck was responding to direct questions, but he didn't seem to be able to recover enough of himself to do more than that. Finn just gripped Puck's hand and held on tight, watching his pale, drawn face with anxious eyes, while Kurt called Burt on the phone.<p>

"Hummel Tires and Lube, this is Burt," he said briskly.

"Dad," Kurt said, "I need your help."

"Kurt? What's the matter? Are you all right?"

Kurt eyed Puck's prone form in the rear view mirror. "I'm fine," he said. "More than fine, really. The performance today was a phenomenal success. But something happened with Noah. Ruth got released from the hospital today."

"How is she?" Burt asked, though from his tone of voice Kurt was pretty clear he didn't much care.

"The tests were inconclusive. But, Dad, she told Noah - she said he couldn't..." He took a deep breath to steady himself. Finn's eyes met his in the mirror, and he looked like he was breaking inside. "She told him stop seeing us, me and Finn, or he might as well not come home."

"She said _what?"_ Burt's outrage was exquisite, and Kurt felt, as he had so many times before, how lucky he was to have a father who loved him, really loved _him,_ for who he was. Not in spite of who he was, but _for _all those reasons, flaws and all.

"We're taking Noah back to Finn's house. I need you to pick up Sarah from school. She gets out at 3:45."

"Sure, Kurt; no problem," Burt said, his voice rough.

"I love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Kurt. I'll keep Sarah at the house until... well. Let me know what Carole says, okay?"

"Thank you, Dad," he whispered, and hung up.

"Is Sarah okay?" Puck said, not opening his eyes.

"My dad'll pick her up after school, sweetheart," Kurt said, reaching back to touch his leg. Puck grabbed hold of his hand like it was a rescue cable. They rode that way back to Kurt's house, where Kurt tucked the Navigator into the garage and helped Finn get Puck into the house, right to Kurt's room. Puck didn't even get his shoes off before he started to shake.

"Gonna - gonna puke," Puck said thickly, and they hustled him into the adjoining bath just in time. Kurt let Finn handle supporting him against the rim of the toilet, trying to close his ears to the sounds of Puck retching, and went upstairs to get him a glass of ice water. He'd never been able to manage listening to someone else throw up without having a sympathetic response. Finn seemed okay, though he was clearly distressed, and Kurt lifted the straw to Puck's lips to sip.

"I'm all right now," Puck said after a few minutes. He looked smaller, a shadow of himself, crouching on the floor of Kurt's bathroom, his head hanging down to his chest. Kurt was struck by the difference between Puck when he _chose _to submit, and this Puck, who'd been beaten into submission by the pain of the world. It was like night and day. They helped Puck move back to Kurt's room, and sat on the floor by his bed.

"I couldn't stop thinking," he said, bitter and tight, like each word hurt to say. "I couldn't stop thinking how I should have felt bad, about Ma being in the hospital. That I should have been worried about her, being sick, and not knowing what was wrong. But - I didn't. All I could think was _finally, maybe now she'll just fucking die and leave us alone. _And I'm not ashamed of it." He breathed shallowly through his mouth, his eyes slits, glaring at nothing through his lowered lids. "And then this afternoon, it was like, it had all just been a dream or something, and she was going to be coming home and I could see it, starting all over again, and I freaked out. I thought, _no way is she going to do this to Sarah again."_

"You didn't deserve any of this, Noah," Kurt said, anger rolling through him. "She's been... chipping away at you, just a little bit at a time, but it was hurting you nonetheless. You _don't_ deserve it."

He rolled his eyes sideways to look at Kurt. "I don't think I can really believe that about myself," he said. "But I _know_ Sarah didn't deserve it. That's enough for me. Seeing her with your dad, Kurt, and your mom, Finn, that made me see what she might be able to have. She could get a chance at a real fucking life."

"And you?" Finn said. "Don't you get that chance?"

Puck nodded, slowly. "Maybe. Maybe there's a chance for me to fix this for me, too." He turned to Kurt. "That song you sang today... holy shit, Kurt." His eyes closed. "Nobody's _ever_ fucking loved me like that."

"We do," said Kurt, stroking his chest. "You know it, right?"

"I think so." Puck struggled to say something, wrestled with the words, before finally settling on: "You work so hard just to show me how you feel. I don't really get _why_ you... love me... exactly, but I see how much effort you put into it, and that's... that's gotta be worth something. I can't imagine you'd do it for no reason."

"It's the best thing I've ever done," Kurt insisted, and Puck flinched away from his words. "Really. I can't imagine _not_ doing everything I can to show you - what you give me."

"What _I _give _you?"_ Puck whispered. The disbelief on his face was stark.

"Puck," Finn said, beckoning, and Puck let Finn pull him against him, sitting up between his legs, facing out, leaning back into the strong support of his body like a chair. Puck rocked a little, side to side, restlessly, exhausted and miserable.

"Do you know what you need?" Finn asked Puck, and Puck shook his head.

"I think I should know," Puck said, brow wrinkling. "But I - I can't understand it. It's like my brain's written in a different language or something."

Finn breathed deep and slow, helping Puck relax with the feel of his own body, holding him up. "I think it's because you're not supposed to do it alone," Finn said, speaking gently, his cheek against Puck's neck. "We're here to help you read it, to... to interpret it." He looked at Kurt, who nodded, moving in close, touching Puck on his face, his hair, the line of his jaw. "That's part of what you need. It's part of what we're here for."

"Why?" Puck said. "Why would you want to bother?"

Finn held him more firmly, sliding his arms around Puck's, a human harness. Puck relaxed into the tight grip. "You remember that book your dad used to read to you? The one about the missing piece?"

"Yeah," said Puck. "The circle wanted to be whole, with nothing missing, so it went around looking for its missing piece." He considered Finn. "I told you - that's how I feel about you. You're my missing piece."

"But that's not the end of the story," Finn said. "Don't you remember?"

Puck shook his head. "I don't remember stuff very well from when I was a kid."

Finn nodded. "Well, I remember. Before it found its piece, when it was incomplete, it had a chunk taken out of it, right? It could only roll very slowly, but because it was going slow, it could admire flowers and enjoy the sunshine, stuff like that. Then when it found its perfect piece, it rolled too quickly and passed those things by." He smiled wryly. "It ended up dumping the missing piece and rolling around without it."

Puck looked entirely confused. "You - are you saying you think I should dump you?"

"No," Finn laughed. "I'm saying that we're all missing some pieces, dude. That's what keeps us interesting. Like in Kurt's song. The flaws are what make us powerful."

"Now I want to read that book," Kurt said, intrigued. Puck actually smiled.

Finn went on, murmuring into Puck's ear. "So, Kurt's one missing piece, but I'm a different one. And together - we're a whole different thing. Like we're building our own puzzle. We're not following anybody's rules about this."

"Yeah, we're a multidimensional puzzle," Kurt added. "We can fit all our pieces in at once, even though it doesn't seem possible."

"Um, okay," Puck said, slowly. "This is getting too complicated for me."

Finn stroked his head. "I guess what I wanted to say was, you're missing a piece, and we can provide that piece for you. But that means we're missing a piece, too, and you're it. None of us are complete without the other."

"No, I guess not," Puck replied, after a minute. He looked at Kurt, who smiled. "Is this how you feel, too?"

"You know I do – _you _taught me this," Kurt said, nestling into Puck's chest. "I'm _better _when I'm with you, Noah. I'm a better person when I let myself be changed by the experience. You give something to me when you open yourself up, sweetheart, and I'm - I'm so much more than I thought I could be. And I know you are, too. You've done incredible things, for yourself, for us - for Sarah." He laughed. "Even my dad's been changed, I think."

"Yeah," Finn said. "I think my mom's kind of in love with him."

"That is so... unbelievably weird," Kurt whispered.

Puck sighed, this time in contentment. "I think it's just right."

His arms came up to hold Kurt, and they sat together, three nested spoons, a perfect fit in an imperfect world.

* * *

><p>The ringing of Kurt's phone interrupted them sooner than Finn would have liked. Kurt sighed, digging his phone out of his jacket pocket, and looked at the display. "It's my dad," he said, and put it to his ear. "Dad..."<p>

Abruptly he sat up, knocking Puck back against Finn, and scrambled to his feet. "What? Where did she go?"

"What happened?" Puck asked. Kurt listened, tense, then reached out and took Puck's hand. Finn felt a thread of fear.

"Sarah's not at school," he said, his face white. "My dad went to pick her up, but she wasn't where she was supposed to be. They can't find her anywhere in the building. She's gone."

"I'll call Meemee," said Puck, reaching for his phone, but Kurt shook his head.

"He's already at the school. Dad - can you come here? We need to figure out what to do." He hung up and looked down at Finn, pleading with his eyes, and Finn held tighter to Puck. He needed a moment to think.

"Ma," Puck whispered.

"Timothy's got her," Kurt said. "She said she doesn't know anything about it. Noah, did Sarah know what your mom said to you?"

Puck held his head in his hands, like he was cradling a football. "God, I'm so _stupid._ I called her from the choir office and told her - I said I'd pick her up. She sounded angry, but she didn't - I never thought -" He looked stricken. "We've got to go look for her."

"She won't get too far," Finn said, trying desperately to hold onto that calm place inside. "We can get everybody helping. We'll find her."

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_3:55 pm – puck's sister's missing, pass it on. finn's the point person for any info. 11 years old, brown curly hair, green eyes, name of sarah. she was wearing a grey hoodie and jeans this morning._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Kurt Hummel<em>

_3:57 pm – Dad and I are at Schoonover Park. No sign yet. Will check in later._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Quinn Fabray<em>

_3:58 pm – I'll check in the neighborhood by the school. We'll find her._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Mercedes Jones<em>

_3:59 pm – OMG, poor Sarah! Tina, Artie and I will take a drive thru my neighborhood - tell Puck we're on it_

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Carole Hudson<em>

_4:01 pm – Finn, I'm so sorry. I'll handle Ruth, then I'll look up by the hospital._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Mike Chang<em>

_4:04 pm – me and matt will look over by lincoln park_

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Santana Lopez<em>

_4:05 pm – wtf? I'm up by twin lake reservoir by the highway. Nothing yet._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Will Schuester<em>

_4:15 pm – Finn, I'm driving along Elida and Cable by the mall. Brad said he'll check by Memorial Park Cemetery. Let me know if I can do anything else. _

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_4:42 pm – thanks everybody, puck says you are awesome - we are all still looking, i'll send a group text when we find her, will update in about an hour_

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Burt Hummel<em>

_5:33 pm – I'll be at the garage just in case she comes there. I've got the neighbors watching our house. Hang in there._

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_6:28 pm – nothing yet. everybody's welcome to come to my house, 621 cortlandt. we've got food there, puck is cooking a buttload of pasta. _

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_7:35 pm – still looking_

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_8:30 pm – kurt's dad and kurt are patrolling, my mom says don't forget to eat something. puck and I are holding down the fort at my house. come by any time. _

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_9:29 pm – i'm out driving now, still looking, hudson house still open to anyone who wants to come by. puck says thanks to everybody. _

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Finn Hudson<em>

_10:30 pm – no Sarah yet - my mom says you guys should all go to bed but we'll be up at the house_

* * *

><p>It was just their luck that the rain held off as long as it did. Santana rubbed her ankles and wished she'd worn her short heels. She wondered if it might be better to take them off and walk barefoot, but the back streets of Lima were littered with glass and debris and other stuff she'd really rather not deal with on her skin. The windshield wipers on her BMW made a smear of the streetlights as she rolled down Delphos for the fifth time that hour.<p>

"Do you want me to warm up some soup?" Brittany's quiet voice said on the speakerphone.

"I'm just going to make one more sweep," Santana said. "It's almost eleven and I'm freaking _done_."

"Lord Tubbington says you're a good friend," she said, and because no one else was in the car, Santana allowed herself a private smile.

"Don't you dare tell anybody in Glee you talk to your cat," she cautioned Brittany. "It's seriously warped."

"I think it's pretty remarkable that Lord Tubbington would bother to talk to _me," _she said, "considering he's royalty and all."

"Whatever. And take your medicine," Santana added, and disconnected the phone.

She rubbed her eyes and squinted through the rain-streaked window, keeping her headlights on low to better see movement in the dark streets. "Fucking fuck," she muttered. "This blows."

The figure in the grey hoodie almost didn't register for a few minutes, but the nervous face peeking out amid brown curls reminded her so much of Puck that she knew right away this was the right kid. She slowed her car and got out, shivering in the November night.

"Sarah?"

The girl's eyes widened, and she chewed on shredded cuticles. "Yeah," she said warily. Her hoodie was soaked and she was shivering.

"Seriously," Santana said, approaching her slowly across the empty parking lot. "You have no idea how many people are looking for you."

"Do you - are you friends with my brother?"

"I guess you could say that." Santana watched Sarah carefully, but she didn't look like she was hurt, and she didn't think she was going to bolt. She just looked exhausted and wet, like a half-drowned kitten. "We dated for a while. Do you want to come sit in my car? I promise I'm not a creepy stalker type."

"You're not going to take me home, are you?" Sarah said, and it was like talking to a miniature Puck, with hair - all guarded anger and wounded resentment.

"No," said Santana. "Finn said you can come to his house. Do you know Finn?"

Sarah scoffed. "Of course."

Santana opened the passenger door to her car and helped Sarah sit. She dug the emergency blanket out of the trunk and assisted her in taking off her sodden hoodie, then she wrapped the scratchy blanket around her shoulders. "Tun on the heat," she said, pointing. "The seats have buttwarmers, too."

"Cool," Sarah said, with interest, and Santana grinned to herself.

She hurried around and slammed the door behind her. Now they were both there, wet and cold, in the car, in the dark. Santana didn't make a move to take the car out of park, just sat there with the warm air blowing on Sarah's soaking wet feet and legs. "Can I text Finn to say I found you?"

"In a minute," Sarah promised. "Can I just - sit here for a little bit?"

"Yeah, no problem." She stifled a sigh. "Puck is pretty freaked out. Everybody is."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said in a low voice, and stared at her hands in her lap. "I couldn't - there was _no fucking way_ I was going back to that house without him."

The desperation in her voice made Santana's hand reach out, almost without her realizing it. Sarah took it. "Okay," she said. "It's okay."

"Um, _no," _Sarah said, shaking her head. "This is a whole _universe_ of not okay."

Santana had no idea what to say to that, so she just nodded.

"How did Kurt's song go today?" Sarah asked, surprising her.

"It was pretty fantastic," Santana said, slowly. "He... mentioned you."

"Really?" Sarah's head came up. Her grin was exactly like Puck's. "Me?"

"He said you taught him that people shouldn't have to pretend to be something they're not."

"Kurt kind of already does that," she objected. "He's more himself than just about anybody I know."

"You think so?" Santana watched Sarah curiously. "I kind of figured all the fancy clothes and snark, that that was kind of a front."

"He's nicer at home," Sarah agreed. "And sometimes he wears t-shirts and sweats. But I don't think he's ever really pretending."

Santana considered how Sarah might have seen Kurt at home, or in sweats. Her mind made a few potential leaps. _Huh. I wonder. _"Kurt's dad's pretty nice," Santana said, as casually as she could.

"He's the best," Sarah agreed. "He and Mrs. Hudson took me out for mini golf and dinner yesterday, for my birthday."

"Happy birthday," Santana said automatically. _Mrs. Hudson - Finn's mom? But why...?_ There were too many unknowns. "Does Kurt, like, babysit for you or something?"

Sarah gave her an icy glare. "I'm eleven. I haven't needed _babysitting_ since I was four."

She changed the subject. "So... why did you run away?"

"My Ma's been in the hospital," she said, and Santana blinked. "She was going home today, but when she said Noah might as well not come home, I decided I wasn't, either."

"Why did she kick him out?"

Sarah eyed her suspiciously. "I don't know how much you already know."

"I know about his secret lover," Santana said, taking a risk.

Sarah didn't look impressed. "Which one?"

_He has more than one? _"The, uh, the really important one. The real thing."

"They're both the real thing," Sarah said, with certainty, and crossed her arms over her chest. She wouldn't say another word about it.

* * *

><p><em>1 text msg – Santana Lopez<em>

_11:14 pm – Got Sarah, she's fine. Heading back to Finn's. _

* * *

><p><em>(Author's note: This is where Santana found Sarah: <em>

_http:/ /www. flickr. com/photos/nubianamy/6036377650/in/set-72157627417978170__ )_


	47. Chapter 47

_(Author's note: If you haven't already seen Just That Side of True, the new Donutverse spin-off story about Will, Toby, Brad, Andi and Laurie, all I can say is, that's where my heart has been in the past three weeks. It's written with my fantastic co-writer, beta reader and all around amazing person knittycat99. There will be a lot of crossover between Toby and Will and the rest of the Donutverse in the next story, so you might as well read it now. But for now, back to your regularly scheduled Santana...)_

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><p>It was like a Glee Club party at Finn's house when they got there, regardless of the time of night. Mr. Schuester met Santana at the door and guided them both into the kitchen, where Puck picked up Sarah bodily, lifted her into his arms and sat right on the floor with her on his lap. He didn't raise his face from her shoulder for several minutes, and everybody knew he was crying even though he wasn't making any noise, but everybody politely found something else to pay attention to. Sarah lay there in his arms, exhausted and staring at the wall, and said nothing.<p>

Santana found herself beset by people with dry towels (Mrs. Hudson), dinner (Mercedes) and offers of warm liquid (coffee from Finn, hot chocolate from Tina, tea from Kurt), and had to tell the story of finding Sarah three different times.

The grownups were all surprised Sarah had made it as far away from the school as she had on foot, but none of the kids were. "I think once people reach a _certain age,_" said Kurt, looking his nose down at his father, "they forget that they could get places using their feet. They get too attached to their cars."

Everyone hovered around the kitchen for another half hour or so before Mrs. Hudson started to urge people toward the front door. "Sarah has school tomorrow, too," she said, "and there are still things to settle before we can go to bed. But thank you again for everything."

"I'm glad we could help, Mrs. Hudson," said Rachel, heading out the front door with Mike pushing Artie's wheelchair. "I'll see you tomorrow, Finn."

"Yeah," Finn said, waving. He darted a look at the kitchen, where Puck and Sarah were sitting at the table with their own warm beverages, and then at Santana. "She was okay?"

"She was freaked out," Santana corrected. "And she thought somebody was going to send her home. I told her nobody was. Right?"

"I don't think so," Finn said. He closed his eyes, and for a brief second, Santana saw the uncertainty on his face. Then he opened them again, and Finn looked solid again.

"Finn," she asked, in a low voice. He stepped closer. "Do _you_ know about Puck's secret lovers?"

Finn's face went still, and he opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. "It's not something he talks about with... anybody," he said.

"Do you know who they are?" she pressed. "Because he seems to think they're kind of a big deal. Like, the biggest deal ever. And I've never seen him like that before." _And it's pissing me off that I can't figure it out._ Then she stared at Finn's face, because - yes, that was definitely a _blush_ there. "You do know," she accused.

"I can't tell you," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "It's a - it's private."

"Come on, Frankenteen," she wheedled, even as he was hustling her to the door. "You know I'm going to figure it out eventually."

He closed the door behind him, and they were alone on the porch. "Yeah, and you're going to keep it to yourself," he said, his voice commanding. She looked up at him in shock. She'd never heard him sound like that before. _Like he knew what he was doing,_ she thought. _Like he's not going to take any shit. _His mouth was a straight, hard line. "This is not a game, Santana. Just drop it." She had to look away from his gaze.

"Thanks so much for all your help with finding Sarah," he added, in his regular voice, and she looked back at him sharply, thinking maybe she'd just imagined the whole scary Finn thing, but he'd turned away and was already heading back into the house. "I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Santana walked slowly to her car and stood beside the driver's side door, thinking. Then yet another car came zooming up to join the several already parked in Finn's driveway. A woman Santana didn't recognize got out of the car and stormed up to the Hudson porch, yelling for Sarah. _Shit, _Santana realized; _it's their mother._

Mrs. Hudson came out to the porch and looked quickly up and down the block. "Ruth," she said, with a sigh, "please, keep your voice down. It's almost midnight."

"I don't give a rat's ass who hears about this," shouted the woman named Ruth. "I just want Sarah to get in the car and come home. Now."

"She's had a difficult night," Mrs. Hudson said. "Ruth, you're not well. Just come inside, won't you? We can all talk."

"I know he's inside," Ruth said, pointing at the house. "He's trying to take her away from me. He's going to poison her with his... his _deviant_ ways." Santana watched her dash away tears, but stand firm. She didn't look much like Puck or Sarah, but they sure got their toughness from her. "And you, too, Carole. How can you tolerate this... this sick charade they're calling a relationship?"

Mrs. Hudson said something in a softer voice, but Ruth wouldn't be stifled. "Loving him won't make this right," she spat, her small shoulders quaking with fury. "If you won't send Sarah out, I'm going to call the police."

Kurt's dad stepped into the space beside Mrs. Hudson, his face a stony mask. "Sarah's not going anywhere tonight," he said quietly. "She's exhausted and she doesn't need any more stress. And if you choose to involve them, you can be sure I'll be letting the police know _exactly_ what's been happening at your house over the last few months. Go home, Ruth. We'll be in touch tomorrow. Sarah is safe here."

Ruth staggered momentarily. At first Santana thought she was going to throw a fit, but finally she backed away, fuming. But she flung one more thing at the house before driving away, something that lit the lightbulb of understanding in Santana's mind: "Sarah's not safe here, not with _your_ two sons around. They're the ones who turned my Noah _gay._"

_Holy shit,_ Santana thought, dropping into the driver's seat, dazed. She watched Finn's mom and Kurt's dad standing in the doorway, his arms around her, and that piece of the puzzle didn't quite seem to fit, but it was pretty damn clear that something was going on with Finn and Kurt and Puck. _Finn and Kurt and Puck._ _Holy holy shit. _

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><p>Brittany met her at the window and helped Santana crawl in, shutting the screen securely behind her. "You look awful," Brittany said, running a hand over Santana's wet hair. "I made that soup. It's waiting in the kitchen."<p>

"I can't believe this," Santana said, shaking her head. "You've got to hear this story and tell me if you come to the same conclusions as me, because I think I'm totally going crazy."

"Sure," said Brittany. "Come snuggle and tell me all about it." She helped Santana out of her jacket and drew her into the warm bed.

"You're lucky I've had mono so many times," Santana said, sighing with pleasure at the soft duvet. Lord Tubbington crawled onto her chest and she stroked his ears absently. Brittany lay beside her, resting Santana's head on her arm, petting Santana's cold skin and intertwining their legs under the covers.

"So what happened with Sarah?"

"She was in the abandoned lot four blocks from the reservoir. I don't think she knew what she was doing; she just didn't want to go home."

"Poor kid," Brittany murmured, planting a kiss on Santana's bare shoulder. "Where did you take her?"

"Finn's house. Apparently he's, like, the new Glee ringleader or something." Even in the face of Brit's snugglefest, she wasn't able to lose her disquiet. "He was freaking me out. Like, he had a spine."

"Didn't he have one before?" Brit wondered. "Finn's not an invertebrate, is he? Because that would _really_ be surprising."

"No!" Santana wrinkled her brow. "He's - well, apparently, he's... _gay. _With _Puck."_

"Oh," said Brittany.

Santana turned her head to face Brit. "That doesn't seem totally off the wall? Like, two super-hot, super straight best friends suddenly turn up to be _gay?"_

"I guess I can see it," Brittany shrugged. "It's up to them, right?"

"You think they just get to decide one day, forget these tits, I'm going for dick? How does that _work,_ exactly?"

"Well, when two people love each other very very much," Brit said earnestly, "the daddy puts his penis into the other daddy's -"

"I know all that," Santana said irritably, waving her hand. "I just thought, well, Finn... he dated girls, didn't he? Before Quinn?" She only had a vague memory of Finn in freshman year, before he rose above zero on the popularity scale, when he was several inches shorter and much skinnier. "And Puck, he's not a bad fuck."

"Yes, I thought so," Brit agreed.

"Oh, and I'm pretty sure Kurt's the other secret lover, but I had him pegged long before he said anything. Just - Puck. I don't know, Brit." She leaned her head against Brittany's soft chest. "This is blowing my mind, somehow. I mean... if Finn and Puck can be gay, _any _of us could be gay." She snorted. "Hell, _we_ could be gay."

"Wouldn't that be a wonder," Brittany giggled, closing her eyes.


	48. Chapter 48

Sarah wouldn't sleep anywhere except right in the bed with Puck. Nobody thought this was weird, but Finn couldn't help but feel a little antsy about being apart from him, when everything inside him knew what Puck needed, and wanted to give it to him. _Sarah needs him more, _he thought, and the sensation was unsettling. He didn't quite know what to do with it.

Kurt's touch on his shoulder called him away from gazing at Puck and Sarah, curled up into a ball of sibling angst on the guest room bed. He felt another twinge of regret and frustration. "Brad was right," he said. "We need to be together. It doesn't feel good."

"I know," Kurt said, against his shoulder. "But sometimes we just have to be patient. It's going to be okay."

"I'm - I'm not sure it is," Finn said. He knew Kurt could hear his uncertainty, could handle it better than Puck could, better even than he himself could. "You really think this stuff with his Ma is - what? Going to go away?"

"No. But I think he can get what he needs in other ways, and I think we can all take care of Sarah in a way she hasn't ever been cared for before. This is bigger than we can handle, but your mom and my dad, I think they're ready to help." Finn turned to see Kurt's eyes glistening. "Did you _see_ what Glee club did tonight? They pulled together to make it happen. They were all here, helping. No arguing, no griping about how much work it was. They just - showed up."

"I know," Finn said. "And the funny thing is, I never doubted they would for a minute." He shifted his shoulders and tried to relax the tension in his muscles. His stomach was tight, and there was a feeling of disquiet in his gut. "But I'm - something's still not right."

"Is there anything I can help with?" Finn knew Kurt wasn't trying to make it a come-on, but in his breathy, liquid voice, it couldn't be perceived as anything but. Finn felt the familiar shiver travel up his spine and into his head, making him dizzy.

"I need -" Finn closed his eyes and sighed. "I need _something._"

"I know what you need," Kurt said, smiling faintly.

"Yeah?" Finn asked.

"It's the opposite of what Noah needs, when he looks like that." Kurt's fingers on Finn's neck were firm and pulled him into a kiss. Finn tried to lean into the kiss, to let his tension be enveloped and pulled out of him by the passion of the moment, but it just intensified his hunger. "You need... to drive. To take something from me."

"Yeah," Finn said again, and felt the answering surge in his gut to Kurt's suggestion. He took Kurt and forced him up against the wall in the hallway, eliciting a gasp from Kurt's mouth, then covered that mouth with his, kissing him again, hot and demanding.

"You're my baby," Finn said. "Puck's my boy, but you - you're my baby."

"Finn," Kurt whispered. He turned his head to the side and squeaked as Finn dug his teeth into the skin of his neck. "We're in the hallway."

"Right," Finn said, and managed to fumble the door open to his room, landing on it heavily to close it again. Kurt matched his pace, responding to his groans and growls with enthusiasm, but when Finn reached for his zipper, he found Kurt's hand gently restraining him.

"You need something else," he said. His eyes, so blue and clear, gave Finn heart palpitations, but he didn't understand what Kurt meant until he took Finn's hand and placed it on his firm ass.

"Kurt," Finn said, because the answering surge inside him was all about that, but he shook his head. "You - you didn't do anything wrong. How can I -?"

"Because you need it," he replied. "Because sometimes, it's okay just to need something. It doesn't need to be about discipline. Just about getting what _you_ need."

Finn wrestled with this thought. "What does that say about me," he said quietly, "that I need that? Am I - am I taking advantage of you?"

"Uh," Kurt said, laughing shakily, "_no." _He gazed up at Finn with an expression of such trust and appreciation that Finn had to laugh, too.

"You take such good care of me," Finn said, shaking his head. "I hope you're getting what you need from me. I don't feel like much of... of a leader, with you."

"Finn," Kurt said, placing both hands on his chest, casting severe eyes on him, "would you forget about that for a minute? We're bigger than that. We always were, from the beginning. Noah, he needs it all the time. I need it... sometimes. But sometimes, it can just be about us, working together. You, and me, and we can figure it out together."

"Yeah?" Finn said, hopefully. Kurt nodded. Finn felt his face split in a grin. _Kurt made me feel like this,_ he thought._ Do something for him._

He ran his hands down Kurt's slim frame, pulled him close, and whispered lovingly into his ear, "I'm going to take your jeans down now, just enough, and I want you over my knee."

Kurt responded with a shudder, a quickening of breath, and a whispered, "Yes, sir."

Finn could feel Kurt's arousal against his leg, but he didn't worry too much about it. This was right, and he could sense it in the shift of his energy, in the way they were relating together, in the way Kurt's body became still as he lay his head on the bed, pillowed on his folded arms, his bare bottom waiting for Finn's hand.

Finn was unprepared for the intimacy he felt, giving this to Kurt, right in his lap, but as he began, he realized it was almost more intimate than sex. He listened to Kurt's reactions carefully and paced his strokes, keeping just ahead of his comfort level, until it drove Kurt to break down, crying into his arms.

"That's my sweet baby," Finn murmured, taking him into his lap, and Kurt just crawled right in and leaned on his chest. "Such a good boy."

"God," Kurt said, with a breath. "It's amazing how that makes me feel."

"How?" Finn wondered, stroking his hair.

Kurt tried to explain. "Like... you took all the worst parts of me and shook them out, like you're panning for gold, and tossed them away. What you get afterwards is the stripped down version, the pure essence. I'm my best self."

"You're so good," Finn marveled. "It's an honor to take care of you that way."

It didn't occur to him to worry about the sound, but the noise of flesh smacking flesh was _loud,_ just as Kurt's moans and cries were unmistakably different from those that might accompany other intimate activities. Now, in the aftermath of cuddling, though, he said, "I wonder if anybody heard that."

"I'm really hoping that my dad went home," Kurt said, burying his face in Finn's chest.

"_I'm_ really thinking he's in my mom's bedroom," Finn said, grinning, and Kurt groaned. "Seriously, dude, what's the problem? Isn't it great that they like each other? I mean, _we _do. Why not them too?"

"It's just too... weird," Kurt tried, but Finn shook his head.

"Uh-uh," he said. "You can't look at what we do and not call _it_ weird, at the same time you call our parents dating weird."

"What we do _is_ kind of weird, Finn," Kurt said, looking up at him. "Please, allow me my foibles. I'm fine with our parents spending so much time together. My dad's happier than I've seen him in a long time. I think... he likes taking care of things."

"Like I do?" Finn asked, and Kurt squirmed and scowled before responding.

"Maybe," he admitted. "I _really_ don't want to think about _that."_

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><p>Puck was sitting in the easy chair in Finn's family room, the one nobody sat in, feeling lost. The television was making white noise, and his phone rang. He looked at the display, but it said <em>Blocked.<em>

"Hello?" he said.

"Hi," said a little girl voice.

He felt the now-familiar thrumming in his chest at the sound of her voice. "Sweetie, what are you doing up so late?" he said, looking at the clock. It was after two, and the windows were dark, so he knew it must be the middle of the night.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

There was a pause. "When are you coming home?" She sounded wistful.

"I... I don't know," he said, looking around Finn's home. It wasn't his home, but he knew there was a reason he couldn't go back to his house. "Soon," he finally decided.

"I love you, Papa," she said.

"I love you, too, sweetie." It felt right, there was no question. "Can you try to go back to sleep now? It's late."

He couldn't hear her reply. There was a strange sound, a crying, but it was far away. "Sweetie?" he asked again, but the crying persisted, and he went to go look for the source.

As he rose, the dream folded into itself, and he found himself on Finn's bed, holding a crying Sarah, much older than the little girl in his dream, but no less helpless and alone. He held her close, putting her head on his heart, and rocked her the way Finn rocked him.

"You called me sweetie," she said, through her tears. "That's fucked up."

"Shut up and don't worry about it," he said, holding her tighter. "You'll be somebody's sweetie someday."

"Whatever," she said, but her voice was bleak and empty. Puck hated to hear that sound, though he knew how it felt, and where it came from.

"It was my little girl," he told her. She sat up and looked at him.

"Who?" she said.

"Quinn Fabray," he said. "She's pregnant and it's my kid."

Sarah stared at him a long while. "You're shitting me."

"No," he said.

"I thought you were, like, gay."

"Only a little," he said. "I'm mostly still just me." He felt the velvet hair growing in on his scalp with his hand. "And she's been showing up in my dreams. They're... pretty awesome."

"Noah, you can't be a daddy," she said, screwing up her forehead.

"Papa," he corrected. "I can so. I did it for you."

"That was because you _had_ to," she said, running an authoritative hand through her tangled hair. "Nobody else was gonna do it. This kid - is Quinn going to keep her?"

"No," he said. "At least I'm pretty sure she's decided to give her up."

She watched his face. _"You're _gonna keep her?"

"I don't know," he said. Then he added, "Don't tell Finn."

Her eyes got big. "You can't do _that, _Noah," she said, shaking her head. "You _can't."_

"I know." He looked at his hands, and thought about how they were big and grown-up now. He thought about the things his father's grown-up hands had done, that he only remembered now, and usually only on the waking edge of morning. It made him feel strange, to see his father's hands attached to his own body.

"You don't think I'm like Dad," he said, not looking at Sarah. "Do you?"

"Um," she said. "I don't really remember him? But what I do remember was kind of bad."

"Yeah," he said.

She leaned on him with her head. "You're _good, _Noah."

He looked at her sideways. "Yeah?" he said.

She nodded, like it was obvious. "We're not the bad kids. We just deal with bad shit. It covers us, so we look bad, but really we're good underneath."

"Huh," he said.

"Finn helps you deal with the shit, right?" she said. "And Kurt."

He considered this. "I guess," he said. "Yeah. When I feel like it's too much, they help me make it less."

"You do that, too," she said. "For me."

"I know," he said. "You do too."

She crawled back into his lap and hung on around his neck, and he adjusted his legs. "Finn sometimes holds me like this," he whispered into her hair.

"Holy shit, really?" she whispered back. "That's awesome."

"Yeah," he agreed. They sat like that until Finn's alarm clock went off, and they got up for school.

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><p>As Puck was finding some clean clothes in Finn's drawers, he called Quinn. "How's Sarah?" she said, first thing.<p>

"She's okay," he said. "She didn't sleep so well."

"Are you all right?" she said.

"No," he said. "But I think you can help me. Can you meet before school?"

"I don't think I should skip first hour," she said. "If we can get to class on time, I'll meet you."

"Deal," he said. "Thanks, Quinn."

"Puck," she said, and stopped. "Um. I know about you and Finn. And... Kurt."

He felt mild panic, but it was overwhelmed by the relief that came on its heels. "Did Finn tell you?"

"He told me about Kurt," she said. "And I figured you out, yesterday, when he was with you in the choir room office. And... Santana, too? You're a little busy these days." Her voice wasn't judgmental. It was a little awed, and maybe jealous.

"Not Santana," he said. "She was covering for me. For us. She didn't know why, though."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I guess four's a bit too many." She laughed, and it came out sounding a little like a sob.

"Quinn," he said. "I'm really sorry. About the baby. I... she's kind of haunting my dreams. Talking to me."

"Mine, too," Quinn admitted.

Puck was intrigued despite himself. "What does she say to you?"

"Mostly she's looking for somebody," she said. "She says she wants her mommy, but it's not me. I'm not sure who it is. We wander around for a while, and then I pick her up and carry her someplace, and then I wake up."

"Do you think... they're real? The dreams?"

"Of course not," she snapped. "I'm going to get ready for school. Where do you want to go?"

"There's an office downtown," he said. "On the corner of Main and North, diagonal from the courthouse. Can you meet me there?"

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><p><em>I know I dreamed you, a sin and a lie <em>

_I have my freedom, but I don't have much time _

_Faith has been broken, tears must be cried _

_Let's do some living after love dies_

_Wild horses couldn't drag me away _

_Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day_

_- The Rolling Stones_


	49. Chapter 49

_(Author's note: here's the office on the corner of North and Main: __http:/ www. flickr. com/photos/nubianamy/6035822381/in/set-72157627417978170_

_This is the last chapter, but the next story is long-plotted and under development. It'll follow Just That Side of True for a few chapters, and then the two stories will merge, just after Sectionals. Watch also for the upcoming Supernatural/Donutverse crossover story.)_

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><p>Quinn wasn't sure what to expect when she ducked into the vacant storefront, but the cozy office perplexed her. She couldn't tell what the purpose of the office was. It could have been anything. The signs on the door read <em>Howell, DDS <em>and _Lawton, LLP_. The generic receptionist was smiling blankly at her. "Can I help you?" she said pleasantly.

"Um, I think so," she said. "My friend Puck said I was supposed to meet him here? Um, Noah Puckerman?"

"Mr. Puckerman is in the conference room," she said. "Right through there. Can I get you some coffee or tea?"

"No thank you," Quinn said, patting her bulging stomach. _It didn't even sound good anymore,_ she thought. Giving up caffeine had been easier than she'd expected.

She followed the receptionist's pointing finger down the hall into a conference room. There was a table, at which Puck sat with a man in a suit. It was a nice suit, and he was very good looking. She smiled at him automatically.

"Hi," Puck said. He looked exhausted and a little anxious. She hoped he wasn't in trouble. This all looked very official. He gestured toward the man. "Quinn, this is my lawyer, Davis Lawton. Mr. Lawton, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn held out her hand and Mr. Lawton shook it. "May I call you Quinn?" he asked.

"I guess," she said, mystified. "Sure." _Why did Puck have a lawyer?_

"Let me get you up to speed, Quinn," he said, gesturing for them all to sit. "First, let me congratulate you on your upcoming blessed event. I'm given to understand you don't plan to keep the child?"

Quinn looked back and forth between Puck and Mr. Lawton. "No. I mean, that's right. I'm giving the child to... someone else."

"Ah. Well, my client is interested in signing the affidavit of parenthood." At her blank look, the lawyer clarified, "That means he would like to claim parental rights, as an non-emancipated minor."

"Puck - wants to be the _father?"_ Puck watched her carefully, his face guarded. She felt a rush of panic. _What would happen if he got the baby, and then Terri couldn't have it? _"But if the baby is already promised to someone else? What happens then?"

"Are you saying you have already begun formal adoption proceedings? Have you filed paperwork with the state?"

"No," she said. "It's just been a - an informal agreement. So far."

Mr. Lawton riffled through some paperwork. "Well, I should probably inform you that in the state of Ohio, most parental affidavits are granted. You may have a fight on your hands if you wish to press for an outside adoption over a biological parent's rights." He handed her a copy of a paper, and she took it. "If you would look these over, we can arrange a time to have them signed. You might want to consult with your own lawyer, talk about your options." He nodded pleasantly, not pressing for smiles, and left them alone in the bare conference room.

Quinn shook her head in confusion. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered. "Is it - are you trying to get back at me or something? Because I thought we were -"

"No," Puck said, and he sounded as tired as he looked. "It's not about that at all. It's just about me, and her. I have to do this, Quinn. It's not just that she's part of me; it's that I need to be a part of _her._ I need to take care of her, or else I'll - I'll break into pieces. I don't know how to go on any other way."

"What the hell do you think you're going to do?" she said, incredulous. "How are you going to handle school while you're taking care of a kid? And don't even _say_ you're going to drop out."

"I'm working on that," he said. He was more steady than she would have given him credit for, especially after last night. "This is bigger than me."

"But you're the one who has to be ready to handle it," she snapped. "I already know I can't do it. What makes you think _you_ can?"

Puck hesitated a moment before saying, "They make me feel like I can do _anything,_ Quinn. I've never fucking felt like that before, _ever,_ but now - I really think I might be able to do it."

"They - you mean Finn and Kurt?" He nodded in silence, his chin up, ready to defend them, but she wasn't going to say anything - not now, anyway. She sighed. "Puck, this changes things a lot. I need - I need time to think about it. Can you let me have a little time?"

"I think you have a week," he said. "Then it'll be up to our lawyers to duke it out. And trust me, I know neither of us have a ton of spending money for lawyers right now. Let's see if we can make it quick and easy, all right?"

She didn't feel ready to answer without yelling, or falling apart, so she just sat there while he pushed back his chair and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>The choir room looked empty without all the props and equipment from their hairography numbers. Mr. Schue greeted Glee club with a stack of new music. "How's your sister, Puck?" he asked, first thing. Everyone looked at Puck, and he shrugged.<p>

"She's alive, thanks to you guys," he said. He stared at his feet. "I - I want to thank you. For everything."

"We got your back," Santana said, "and Sarah's."

Mr. Schue considered the group with a fond smile. "Last night was trial by fire," he said. "You came together for each other when you needed it. That's the true mark of a community. I think you all showed that when the going gets rough, you can really count on one another." He looked back at Puck. "I'm guessing this isn't the end of this for you, or Sarah. You'll let us know how we can help?"

"Yeah," Puck said quietly.

Mr. Schue nodded, and picked up a stack of music, handing it out. "Kurt, you and Finn and Rachel and Mercedes showed us what we'd been missing with your fantastic Hair number. But we can't use it for Sectionals. So now - we're starting from scratch," he said. "Grab a stool, everybody."

"So, we're a stool choir now?" Artie said in confusion, glancing at the music.

"Nope. We're not dancing with the stools. No gimmicks, no false theatricality. We're just going to sit in them and sing."

Kurt glanced at the music and saw the piece he'd found after hours of searching in the attic room. He looked up at Mr. Schue's face and saw anticipation in his eyes. _Where are you going this weekend?_ he thought, wishing for an answer, but finding none. _What's so important that you'd leave us before sectionals?_

Rachel looked at the music, too, nodded in satisfaction, and said, "Thanks, Mr. Schuester."

Puck stayed close to Finn as they changed into their costumes, which consisted of colorful, plain t-shirts. "You sleep okay?" Finn asked him, but the dark circles under his eyes should have been answer enough. "You could have come to find us, when you woke up, you know."

Puck pulled the red t-shirt over his head. "I couldn't leave Sarah," he said in an undertone. "I don't know what's going to happen now. After school today - I don't even know where I'm going."

"You're _going _to stay with me, until we get it figured out."

"And Sarah? What are we going to do about her? You know she's just going to run away again if we make her go home."

"My mom and Burt, they're going to help," Finn said, more confidently than he felt. "We're going to the garage after school, and then dinner at Kurt's. You've got people who can help with this, Puck. You don't have to do it alone. Just hang in there."

He glanced around to make sure they were alone, then leaned in, and his breath was warm on Puck's neck. "We missed you last night," he said, "but we knew you needed to take care of Sarah. It came first. Tonight - we want to take care of you."

"God," Puck breathed, dropping his head to his chest. He closed his eyes. "Yeah, I could use that."

"I just wanted you to know we hadn't forgotten," Finn said, and clasped his hand one more time before they headed back to the auditorium. Puck followed close behind, and set up his stool right next to Finn's.

Santana sat on his other side, and she watched them carefully, noticing for the first time the subtle interactions between them, the way Puck looked to Finn, and Finn directed him with his hands, his eyes. She didn't understand, but she saw it, and filed it away.

Tina caught Kurt's hand as they brought in their stools. "I didn't get a chance to tell you," she said, in her shy, sweet way, "how much I enjoyed your song."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you to sing with us," Kurt said. "It was just a scheduling thing, in the end. But I'm glad Mr. Schue gave you this piece. It's just right for your voice."

"The words in that song had a really important message," she said, cocking her head. "Was that meant for - someone in particular?" Her eyes flickered across the stage to where Puck was sitting on his stool, his head down. Kurt's eyes widened briefly, and she smiled. "I kind of thought so."

"Did - did Mercedes -?" he said anxiously, but she shook her head.

"No, Kurt. I'm pretty smart, you know. And I spend a lot of time watching and listening. Mercedes told me something was up, but she didn't give away your secret." She raised an eyebrow. "He is pretty cute, even if he's kind of a jerk."

"You have no idea," Kurt breathed, keeping his gaze carefully directed away from Puck. "It's way beyond that. And there's more, but -"

Then he looked around at the people surrounding him in the auditorium. He examined their friendly expressions, the looks of trust and appreciation. They were on his side. He didn't know exactly when that had happened, but somehow - it had. _They were his family, too._

"We can talk later," Tina said. "I'd love to hear the rest. But you know, this song has a important message, too. I hope you'll hear it." She hugged him again. "Come sit by me?"

Tina really was the perfect one to deliver the song. She sang with astounding clarity, and exactly the right kind of honesty: the one that made everyone feel lucky to be alive, and made all the colors in the room that much more bright. Mr. Schue sat out in the audience and watched them with a clear, calm approval. They were good, and they knew it - but more than that, they were themselves.

_You with the sad eyes _

_don't be discouraged _

_oh I realize _

_it's hard to take courage _

_in a world full of people _

_you can lose sight of it all _

_and the darkness inside you _

_can make you feel so small _

Puck was self-conscious about people watching him, knowing he was hurting, but it wasn't as hard to take as usual, somehow. The pitying eyes of his fellow Glee members were not exactly welcome, but they didn't feel like an imposition, either. And it was good to know that at least some of them were positive and loving, like Mercedes - _who would have thought?_ Even Quinn's expression, though tentative and anxious, didn't look angry. It was possible they might be able to get through this business about the baby without too much of a fight.

_But I see your true colors _

_shining through _

_I see your true colors _

_and that's why I love you _

_so don't be afraid to let them show _

_your true colors _

_true colors are beautiful _

_like a rainbow _

Kurt found Finn's eyes on him more than once during the song, and he delighted in it each time it happened. He could feel them inching out of their self-imposed closet a little bit at a time, and it gave him hope that, soon, soon, they could stop hiding, at least with their friends and family. It was going to happen. He sang with confidence. He wasn't afraid, because Finn was with him.

_Show me a smile then _

_don't be unhappy, can't remember _

_when I last saw you laughing _

_if this world makes you crazy _

_and you've taken all you can bear _

_you call me up _

_because you know I'll be there _

* * *

><p>Carole stretched out her feet into Burt's lap and groaned. "God. One of these days they're going to develop a shoe that <em>actually<em> manages to last through a 10 hour day of standing."

"That would put all the foot-massagers out of business," Burt said, putting some pressure into her instep.

"Shoes are ultimately for fashion, not for common sense," Kurt declared, eyeing Finn's feet, still tied into his enormous athletic shoes. "Otherwise, we'd have, I don't know, big wads of cotton strapped to our feet - and you are _not_ going to ask me to touch those disgusting things that have been in your sneakers all day, are you?"

"I didn't say anything," Finn protested, kicking off his shoes and peeling off his socks. "What? They don't smell. Do they?" he asked Puck, seated on the floor in front of the couch.

"You really want an answer?" Puck asked. He even grinned a little. A minute later he had Finn's foot in his hands and he was rubbing the heel.

"I don't much care for shoes," Sarah said. She had on slippers with big Tweety Bird heads on them. "If I could get permission to go barefoot at school, I bet I'd get better grades. I'd sure be more coordinated."

Carole brushed Sarah's hair back from her face, where it lay on Carole's lap, and went on stroking as Sarah's eyes fluttered closed. "You have any homework tonight?"

"Noah made me do it right after school," she said, eyes still closed. "At the garage. I have a paper due on Monday but I still need to do some research for it."

"I can take you to the library tomorrow," Kurt offered.

"I can find what I need on the 'net," she said, but Kurt shook his head.

"Not all the journals are digitized," he said. "Someday soon they're going to stop letting you use Internet resources for papers like those, and then where will you be?"

"_Then_ I'll be waiting for you to drive me to the library," she said.

Burt looked up from his foot-rubbing. "Sarah..." he said. "You're going to have to talk about this _some_ time tonight."

"But I _like_ avoiding pain and suffering," she complained, but she sat up from her sprawl on Carole's lap and sighed. "Okay. I'm listening."

"Your mom and I met today while you were in school," Carole said. "We talked with some people from social services. Do you know what that means?"

"They're the people who are in charge of the foster care system," Sarah said. She poked at the couch with her foot, scowling.

Carole's voice was gentle. "Your mom doesn't think she needs any help, but Burt and I think she does. We're trying to get her to see the reasonable idea that she can't care for you right now, while she's dealing with these medical issues."

"My mom's attitude about _me_ doesn't have anything to do with her being sick," Puck said, glaring at Finn's foot in his hands.

"Actually, it _could _be," said Burt. "Without knowing what's really going on with your mom, it's impossible to know for sure, but if she's having neurological problems, it could be affecting her judgment."

Puck laughed without humor. "Burt, I wish that were true, but she's always been a bitch."

"You watch your language, young man," Burt said severely, and Puck blinked at him, startled.

"Uh," he said. "Sorry."

Burt reached down and brushed Puck's shoulder with his hand. "This isn't easy for you, I got that. And I know your mom is acting like she's forty going on ten. But we've got to stay civil, especially when we're dealing with the system, with authorities, or they're going to treat you like you're bad kids." His hand tightened. _"We_ know you're not."

Puck blinked harder, looking back at his lap, and took a steadying breath. "All right."

"Your mom said that you might decide that being home isn't worth it as long as Puck's not there, Sarah," Burt added. "Is that how you feel?"

Sarah nodded and stared at her lap. "Even with Timmy in the house, it's too full of bad memories. He's leaving soon, anyway, back to his apartment, and I don't want to be there alone." She shifted on the couch, looking uncomfortable. "Foster care, though... we've had people try that with us before. I don't want to stay with a family I don't know."

"And they can't split us up," said Puck, shaking his head. "I don't think either of us would stick around, if they tried that."

"Well, like we talked about before," said Carole, "there's a whole system to follow for placing you permanently, but the first thing they have to do is give you a safe place to be. And they'd rather put you with a friend of the family before they choose someone you don't know. That could be me, or we could probably make a case for Burt."

"If you had a choice, where would you stay?" Kurt asked her. She considered this.

"I think I want to be here, at your place," she said, brightening. "Because it's bigger, and the guest room has a television."

"Um, _no,"_ Puck snorted, whacking Sarah's left Tweety Bird slipper with his hand. "You're not getting a television on your room, no matter how cool Mr. Hummel is."

Burt seemed quietly pleased. To Sarah, he asked, "If your mom says it's okay, do you want to stay here tonight?"

"She won't," Sarah vowed, but she looked hopefully at Burt from half-lidded eyes.

"I'll call her right now," Burt said, and rose from the couch.

Kurt leaned against Finn, who slung an arm over Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's other hand rested on Puck's chest, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. "I was thinking about that game we played at the dinner party," Kurt said. "Looking ahead 1, 5 and 10 years. I'm starting to think that's impossible. There are so many things that could change in even just one year, much less five or ten. I just wish I knew how it was all going to come out."

"I guess nobody ever really knows," Finn said. "But we're doing it together. That's something you can count on."

"That's right," Carole agreed. "It's what family does."

"Mrs. Hudson?" Puck said.

"That's feeling awfully formal these days, Puck," she said. "How about you try Carole?"

"Carole," he said, digging in his backpack. "Would... I was hoping you might, maybe..." He held out his battered copy of _All the King's Men, _with a mirror image of Sarah's hopeful expression.

She smiled. "It'd be my pleasure," she said, as she opened to the page marked by the well-folded piece of paper and began to read.

* * *

><p>And what we students of history always learn is that the human being is a very complicated contraption and that they are not good or bad but are good and bad and the good comes out of the bad and the bad out of the good, and the devil take the hindmost.<p>

- Robert Penn Warren, _All the King's Men_


End file.
